


A Light in the Darkness

by Tea_For_One_Please



Category: Stranger Things (TV 2016)
Genre: Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Blood, Bullying, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Established Relationship, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, High School, Homophobic Language, Hurt/Comfort, Kissing, M/M, Not Compliant With Stranger Things Season 3, Not super gory but a bit so be warned, POV Alternating, Period-Typical Homophobia, Poetry, Post-Canon, Secret Relationship, Sharing a Bed, Spooning, The Void, Will Byers Has Powers, Will's POV
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-12-09
Updated: 2019-08-29
Packaged: 2019-09-14 13:37:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 9
Words: 26,220
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16913847
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tea_For_One_Please/pseuds/Tea_For_One_Please
Summary: After a rather explosive argument, Will suspects there is something different about him.





	1. First Light

**ACT ONE**

 

The streetlamp flickered as Will passed under it. He flinched instinctively, braked and squinted at it. It had now been over three years since the Shadow, and over four since the Demogorgon, yet situations such as these still made him even jumpier than usual. That said, this particular scenario occurred infrequently. He almost never cycled at night, even less commonly alone – especially fairly recently, since he’d started dating Mike. Will grinned at this particular thought. On this occasion, though, Mike was strictly housebound, as he had been struck down with the ‘flu. Will had just been to visit him, and was now on his way home. He shivered with the cold and pressed down on the pedals once more.

Quite predictably, his mother was watching from the window for his return. As he freewheeled down the drive, he saw her drop the blind and go to the door. Will sighed. He loved his mother, and knew full well that her worry was well-meant, but it didn’t half get on his nerves. He rarely lost his temper, particularly at her, but a full-blown row had evolved on this particular morning.

 

* * *

  

“When will you be back?” she had asked.

“M’not sure. ‘Bout 8:30?” he had answered, his mouth full of his toothbrush. Joyce frowned and pushed open the bathroom door.

“It’ll be dark by then.”

“Yeah, I know.” He spat into the sink.

“How will you get home?” She dried her hands on the towel she was holding. “I can’t pick you up, I’m working.”

“I’ll bike, it’s fine, Mom.” He drank from the tap to rinse out his mouth.

“I’m not sure I want you biking home from the Wheelers’ in the dark, Will,” she said, clearly forcing her voice to remain calm.

“Why not? It’s like a mile and a half, and the whole road has streetlamps now.”

“You know why,” she said, her tone hardening.

“It’s been three years since El closed the Gate, Mom,” he said, his voice rising to match hers.

“But you still have these… moments, Will, and what if something happened while you were out?”

“Well – ”

“No, I’ll tell you what,” she said, looking calmer, “I’ll call Hopper and ask him to pick you up.” She left the bathroom and headed for the telephone.

“Mom, no!” Will tried again, following her. Down the hall, a lightbulb popped, entirely unnoticed by both.

“Since you can’t stay at the Wheelers’, you can stay the night with him and Jane instead.” Joyce tucked the towel under her arm, lifted the receiver and started to dial.

“No! I’m not a baby!” Will snapped, seizing the telephone and slamming it down. Every light in the house suddenly went out, and Joyce let out a small scream. The only light illuminating the room was that of the dull, cloudy February day.

“What the hell?” Joyce breathed. “Was that..? Did you just..?” Will just stared at her, dumbfounded. She stumbled back, her eyes wide with shock.

“I’m gonna go,” muttered Will. “I’ll see you later. Don’t call Hopper.” With that, he pulled on his sneakers and body-warmer and left.

 

* * *

 

“You’re late.” Joyce fixed him with an unimpressed stare as he walked in with a slightly guilty look on his face.

“Um… yes. I thought you were working late, so I didn’t see the point in rushing back.”

“Did it not occur to you that I might notice if you weren’t back when I got home?” She locked the door behind him and pointing at the shoe-rack. Will obliged.

“Sorry.”

“Oh, you’re sorry?”

“What else do you want me to say?” Will shrugged off his body-warmer and hung it on the hook.

“Will, can you please try to see things from my point of view?” she said, exasperated. “I didn’t want you biking back in the dark anyway, and then you’re an hour and a half late! How can you not think this is a problem?” Will bit his lip.

“Sorry, Mom.” He meant it this time. She ruffled his hair, her lips still tight, but Will knew he was off the hook. “You fixed the lights then,” he added timidly.

“Shorted fuse, according to the electrician,” said his mother coolly, “with the exception of the lamp on the windowsill down the hall.”

“What about it?”

“Blown to pieces,” she said, tilting her head. “So how do you think that happened?”

Will shrugged. “If a power surge caused the fuses to trip, I expect it could blow an old lightbulb.”

Joyce nodded slowly. “That’s plausible.” She kept gazing at him.

“What?” he asked uneasily, shifting his weight to his other foot and folding his arms.

“Nothing,” she said, hurriedly looking elsewhere, before looking back at him almost immediately. “You’d say if there was something going on, wouldn’t you?”

“Yes, of course,” he lied, shoving his hands in his pockets and offering her a placating smile. She nodded slowly and returned the smile.

“I know I’m overbearing sometimes, but try and work with me here, will you? It’s only because I care about you.”

“Sure.”

“Alright. I’m going to bed. I’m not working tomorrow, so I’ll take a sleeping pill. You can sort your own breakfast, right?”

“Yeah, no problem. Good night.”

“Good night, sweetie.”

 

Will flopped onto his bed and stared at the ceiling while he listened for the sound of his mother’s bedroom door closing. He was relieved that she was taking one of her pills – she rarely slept well any more, and these new tablets ensured she’d sleep through the night. Incidentally, this was useful for Will on this particular occasion. He doodled for fifteen minutes until he was sure she was asleep, before grabbing his SuperComm and twisting the dial to channel 2.

“El, do you copy? Over.” A moment passed, and he tried again. “El, do you copy? This is Will. Over.” Silence. He sighed. “Code Yellow. Over.” He was starting to think she was asleep, but he needed to see her. In the two years since the Shadow, Will and El had become close. They had clicked almost instantly (although technically they had sort of met before) and had become like siblings to one another. When the hisses of the Mind Flayer infiltrated Will’s dreams, he would usually call Mike, but he made a point of always telling El about it the next morning. Similarly, when she woke up crying after thinking she was locked in solitary confinement again, she would call Will, and he would talk her through the ensuing panic. They irritated the Party incessantly with their combined intellectual prowess of a Harvard graduate; their numerous inside jokes; and their inexplicable conversations where neither would speak, but both clearly understood the other.

 

A crackle came over the line.

“What?” Will noted that she hadn’t bothered to say ‘over’. This most likely meant he had woken her up.

“Can I come over?”

“Must you?” She sounded grumpy.

“It’s important. Code Yellow.” He heard a sigh over the line.

“Sure, okay then.”

“Be there in ten. Leave your window open.” He heard the start of a truncated retort as he shoved the antenna down and tossed the radio in his backpack. He peeked out into the hall: there was silence from the room opposite and no light issued from under the door. With the coast clear, Will shoved some pillows under the duvet for good measure and climbed carefully out of the window, pulling it down behind himself, but leaving it a finger’s-width open so he could get back in again. Less than a minute later he was pedalling quickly down the street, his lamp casting a golden-white beam onto the road ahead.

 

The summer before El had started school, Hopper had moved them out of the old cabin in the woods into a small two-bedroom house somewhere between Will and Dustin’s house. This was now where Will found himself. He flicked off his light and walked the bike around into the back yard. He glanced upwards, to see that El had left her window open a crack. He leaned his bike against the woodshed and expertly vaulted from the trash cans, to the woodshed roof, to El’s window, like he’d done a hundred times before. He tapped gently before sliding the window up and tumbling through it. The lamp was on, and El was sat on her bed in her pyjamas, looking sour.

“This better be important.”

“It is,” he assured her. “Thanks for letting me come.”

“How’s Mike?”

Will tensed. Deep down he knew things were not awkward between the three of them. After all, it had been over six months since she and Mike had broken up. However, it was early enough in the relationship that Will was still painfully aware that he was dating her ex-boyfriend. At this point, she was actually the only other person who knew about them. He had told her before the first date, but she was neither surprised, nor annoyed. In fact, she was pleased that they had finally figured it out, in her words. “Oh, he’s alright. A few days’ rest and he’ll be on his feet again.”

“So what was it you needed to talk about?” she asked, closing her book and crossing her legs. He took off his sneakers and joined her on the bed.

“Mom and I had an argument this morning,” he said slowly. She narrowed her eyes sceptically.

“Big deal. Yesterday Hop and I spent ten minutes arguing over the best pizza topping.”

“No, I mean like an actual argument.”

“Oh, right. Sorry, I’ve never seen you in an actual argument, so I thought… Never mind. Was it bad?” She stifled a yawn.

“Pretty bad. In fact, something kind of weird happened.” He rubbed his hands together but jolted them apart again like he’d been stung. Now she really looked suspicious.

“What kind of weird?”

“There was a power surge and all the lights went off. One bulb even exploded,” he added, looking sheepish.

“And..?”

“And I think I caused it.” Will was surprised at how easily he had told the truth compared with less than an hour before.

“Okay,” said El slowly. “What else?”

“I feel like… like my body’s stored the energy it took from the lights.”

“Well, let’s try it,” El suggested.

“Sorry, what?”

She reached over and switched off her lamp. “Make the light.”

“That’s ridiculous.”

“No, it isn’t. Try it.”

Will sighed, but decided to humour her. He cupped his hands together and closed his eyes. “Anything happening?” he asked.

“No.”

 _Try harder_ , he thought. He imagined the light flowing down his arms, through his hands and out of his fingers, and pictured a ball of light hovering between his cupped hands. He held this image in his mind’s eye, and presently heard El gasp.

 

His eyes flew open, and there in front of him was exactly what he had imagined. The glowing sphere seemed to shimmer slightly, its blue-white light bright enough to cast shadows on the walls around them. El looked utterly astonished, which in Will’s experience was unusual. She reached out to touch the light.

“Careful!” said Will, alarmed, but she was unperturbed.

“It’s alright,” she said quietly. She ran her hand through it, unaffected, as though she were simply passing a finger through a candle’s flame. “It doesn’t hurt.” Then she frowned. “Does it hurt you?”

“A little,” he admitted. “It didn’t at first, but it’s starting to…”

“Stop it,” she said, suddenly concerned. “Will, put it out.”

“How?” he asked, panic rising in his voice. “I don’t know how!”

“How did you start it?”

“I… I don’t know,” Will cried. “I just imagined it!”

“Then un-imagine it!”

Will thought fast. Pain was now searing through his chest, and his head. His hands felt like they were burning. He closed his eyes and clenched his fists. The only thing he could think of was imagining the light scattering to different parts of the room. Suddenly the pain lessened to a dull ache somewhere in his torso, and he opened his eyes again.

 

There were now twelve smaller lights hovering around the bed, bobbing gently.

“Now what?” he whispered. El’s eyes widened as she heard the television downstairs shut off.

“Hop’s coming to bed,” she hissed. “Do anything!” Instinctively Will pointed to one of the lights and moved his hand in an arc until he was pointing at El’s bedside lamp. It flew in, and the lamp turned on dully. He sent another in there, and it brightened. Two more and Will was sure it was full. He then cast four more of his little lights into the ceiling light, then one to her night-light, then two of the final three to the Christmas lights that adorned her wardrobe all year round. The last one he managed to re-absorb. The coloured lights had just flickered on when a gentle knock sounded on the door. “Come in,” El called. Hopper entered, his eyebrow twitching in surprise when he saw Will.

“You’re out late,” he said. “Come on, miss, it’s time you were asleep.”

“Sure,” she said. “Will just needed to talk about something.”

“You want me to run you home?” he asked Will.

“Oh, no thanks, I have my bike.”

“Well, if you’re sure. El, turn off some of these lights, would you? It’s darker in Las Vegas. Good night.”

“Night,” El and Will chorused.

“I should go,” Will said, standing.

“Hey, Will?” she said, getting up to switch off the various lights.

“Hm?”

“You did the right thing in telling me.”

“I just don’t understand how this happened,” he muttered. “Am I weird?” She laughed.

“Well, if you are, that makes both of us.” He smiled at that. “We’ll talk more tomorrow. Try and get some sleep.”

“Yeah. Thanks.”

“Oh, and try and get rid of that last light. It’s probably not good to keep it.”

“Copy that. Good night.”

 

On his way home, Will stopped at the first flickering streetlamp he saw. He looked around to make sure no one could see, and then cast the final ball of light into the lamp. Its light became constant at once, and Will cycled on. By the time he crawled into bed, he was absolutely exhausted. He was, however, determined to get to the bottom of this new power. And he supposed he was going to have to tell Mike about it, too.


	2. Dark Times

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Will struggles to pluck up the courage to tell Mike about his discovery.

“Hey.” Will jumped at the sudden greeting, and a binder dropped to the floor. Papers spilled out and scattered a foot or so around his locker. A few nearby people laughed, but to Will’s relief, he managed to quickly gather them up without attracting too much attention. He shoved the binder into his locker and turned to look at Mike, who was looking rather abashed. “Sorry.”

“No, it’s not your fault,” said Will, shoving his history and chemistry textbooks into the locker, along with his sketchbook. “I just thought you wouldn’t be here today.”

“I wasn’t planning on it,” Mike admitted, leaning on the adjacent locker. “But I felt fine when I woke up this morning so thought I might as well.”

“You look like hell,” Will said, looking him up and down and raising an eyebrow.

“Well, thank you,” he grinned. It was not an inaccurate observation: Mike was a mess. His hair was unbrushed, and four days in bed had left it looking even more fluffy than it usually did. There were still traces of the dark circles that had adorned his eyes. He looked a bit pale, and Will could have sworn he had lost weight; come to think of it, Mike hadn’t eaten during the entire time Will was there the previous day.

“Are you sure you’re alright?” Will said anxiously.

Mike shrugged. “I think so. Besides, if I feel bad later I can always just go to the nurse and get her to send me home. Or if Miller’s lesson is too boring,” he added after a moment’s thought. Will smiled at that. “What about you, are you okay?”

“Yeah, I’m fine. I just didn’t sleep too well.” Will closed his locker and slung his (now significantly lighter) bag onto his back. Mike frowned.

“You didn’t call.”

“Oh, it wasn’t bad.” Will suddenly realised how this must have sounded. “No nightmares or anything. I just kept waking up and that kind of thing.”

“Oh, good.” Mike gave a relieved smile. “I mean, not good that you were awake a lot, but – you know what I mean.” They chatted as they walked. They greeted El and Lucas on their way, who were in a different homeroom from them, Dustin and Max. Alphabetical seating assignments meant they couldn’t sit together, but the minute the bell rang, they were walking side-by-side again on their way to their shared math class. This time, Dustin and Max tagged along, bickering amicably until Max left the group for her Spanish class.

 

Dustin caught up with Mike and Will, which had the unexpected advantage of forcing the two of them to walk closer together. This left them close enough that their arms brushed against each other, which was pretty much as intimate as they could be in school.

“Did you guys catch that?” Dustin said, his tone laced with disgust.

“No,” said Mike, glancing at Will out of the corner of his eye and smirking. Will bit his lip.

“She thinks _Back to the Future_ is better than _Star Wars_!”

“Of course she does,” said Will. “I mean, I sort of see her point. Space travel is cool and stuff, but we’ve been to the moon. We’ve never gone back in time. It’s just such a different idea.” Dustin spluttered with indignation, but Mike spoke up before he could form words.

“Besides, Marty McFly’s party trick is skateboarding like an absolute pro.”

“Yeah, but…” Dustin started to say, but Will cut him off.

“Come on, Dustin. What wouldn’t you give to see Troy drive into a manure truck?” Mike and Dustin both laughed at this, and even Dustin had to admit that he had a point. They were seconds away from entering their classroom when a rough voice spoke up from behind the group.

“What did you just say, Byers?” All three of them ground to a halt and turned to see Troy standing in front of them, scowling down at Will with his arms crossed.

“I think you heard me,” Will said indifferently, turning away again. Unseen by him, Troy blinked in surprise, before regaining his composure.

“That’s right, walk away, fairy!” he said, a sneer escaping alongside the words. Mike bristled and took a step towards Will’s childhood tormentor.

“Mike, don’t,” warned Dustin, and Will spun around again, grabbing the sleeve of Mike’s sweater.

“Come on then, Wheeler, protect your boyfriend,” Troy taunted.

“Mike,” he said under his breath. “Leave it, will you?” Mike glared at Troy, but obligingly followed Will and Dustin into the classroom.

“Sorry,” he muttered as they joined Dustin, Lucas and El in their corner. “He just really gets under my skin.”

“I know, he annoys me too,” said Will, taking out his notebook and textbook. “But how did he react when I walked away?”

“He called you a…” Mike couldn’t bring himself to say the last word. “You know.”

“Was that it?”

“He looked, I don’t know, confused.”

“Exactly. He expected me to get angry. He lost his footing until you reacted the way he wanted.” Mike allowed Will’s words to sink in, and nodded slowly as he saw the truth in them. “And haven’t we faced scarier things than Troy Harrington, for God’s sake?” Will let out a small chuckle, and Mike too had to laugh at how ridiculous it sounded, put like that.

“Yeah, you’re right.” He glanced around, and quickly squeezed Will’s hand under their desks before pulling out his own books.

 

The rest of the day was fairly normal, by most standards. The lessons were typically uninspiring. They spent recess holed up in the A.V. classroom, messing around with the new home slide projector that Mr Spencer had procured the previous week. Will dozed off during his Literature class, and when old Mrs McLain’s back was turned, Lucas pinged a well-aimed rubber band across the room to rouse him. If anyone noticed that the fluorescent ceiling light directly over Will went out momentarily as he woke, no one said anything about it. After this, they regrouped at their usual table in the cafeteria, and ate their usual meals in their usual seats. On one side, Will and Dustin had the end seats with Mike sat between them. El sat opposite Will, with Max on her right, and Lucas on the other end. Dustin and Max resumed their debate on time and space travel, and this time Mike and Lucas joined in. Lucas favoured Star Wars, while Mike sided with Max, not because he even slightly agreed, but because he enjoyed seeing Lucas and Dustin riled up.

El seized the opportunity, looking Will in the eyes and glancing at Mike. _Did you tell him yet?_

Will shook his head almost imperceptibly. _No, not yet._

She frowned, and tilted her head. _Why not?_

Will looked down at his left wrist, the one that held his watch, before looking at a few other tables. _Couldn’t find the right time. Also there’re far too many people around._

She tightened her lips, and looked at Mike again. _You better do it, or I will._

Will’s eyebrows tightened slightly, then relaxed and nodded. _Don’t you dare. I’ll do it._

“Guys, they’re doing it again,” said a voice from across the table. Will looked over to see Lucas leaning forward, staring at them.

“Oh, give over,” said Dustin, through a mouthful of banana.

“Yeah,” Max chimed in. “Come on, what’cha talking about?”

“We weren’t talking,” said El innocently. “Right, Will?”

“Sure,” he said. “Did you hear us?”

“But you’re doing that thing,” said Lucas, “where you’re having a full conversation but we have no idea what you’re saying.”

“Yeah, it isn’t fair,” Dustin nodded.

“You can’t prove anything,” shrugged El, turning her attention to her chicken sandwich.

“I think it’s kind of cool,” put in Mike. Max did a double-take.

“Don’t encourage them!” she said, exasperated, before shaking her head in despair and passing her rice pudding over to Will. “This is disgusting. You want it?” Will tried it, and shrugged.

“Tastes alright to me.”

“Oh, I see how it is,” Mike said, feigning offence. “You’ll eat her rice pudding, but you won’t finish my baked potato, even though lunch lady Doris gave me a dirty look for not finishing it?”

“You’ve been sick for nearly a week,” said Will, wrinkling his nose. “I don’t want your germs.” He glanced back at El, who gave a small shrug. _Another time._

 

Monday nights were generally considered to be ‘club’ nights, for everyone except Max, anyway. Dustin had a science club; El played chess; Lucas was on the basketball team; Mike, to everyone’s astonishment, had joined the drama club. For his part, Will had joined the track team. He had started jogging as a form of stress relief a few months after the Mind Flayer incident, and it had been Max’s idea to join the track team when they started high school. Will had initially been doubtful, but had surprised himself (and everyone else, to be honest) with how easily it came to him at the tryouts. He was, in the amazed track coach’s words, an all-rounder. He could power himself into a sprint, but was equally good at pacing himself for long-distance running. Now, though, they were still at the tail end of a harsh Indiana winter, which meant cross-country running was their focus.

“We’re pushing it up today, boys,” Coach Callaghan announced in the changing rooms. Will caught his eye to show he was listening, before retrieving his running jersey from his sports bag and tugging it on. “Everyone’s going up by half a mile.” He ran a finger down his clipboard. “Okay… Moore, Starling, Williams – two miles, four laps. Cordy, Johnson, O’Leary, Smith – two and half, so five laps. Byers, Keeling, Young – three miles, that’s six laps.” He paused and looked around at the ten boys. “One lap to warm up, as usual. Start your stopwatches after that and clip ‘em to your jerseys. We good?”

“Yes, coach,” they chorused.

“Swell. Get on out there.”

 

Will took the warm-up lap slowly. The wind rushed through his jersey, and he shivered, but he knew before too long he’d appreciate the breeze. However, for the moment, the cold had the same effect it always did, leaving a hiss and an odd clicking sound echoing in his ears. He started his stopwatch and forced himself to breathe deeply. This was good for him, he knew that. If he never allowed himself to remember and to process, he would never recover. That’s what his therapist had said, anyway. It was far better for it to happen on his terms and under his control, rather than it taking him by surprise and being more damaging. So as he ran, as he often did, he thought about the Upside Down.

He remembered how he had fled from Mirkwood, leaving his bike behind. He remembered running through the Upside Down, figuring it out, orientating himself to its permanent darkness and foul stench of decay. He remembered yelling to his mother through the tiny portal. He remembered the pain he had felt coming back to it a few days later and seeing wooden boards on her side of it. As he started the second lap, he remembered that it was at that point that he had started to give up hope – if his mother had boarded up the portal, she too must have given up (of course, he didn’t find out until later that it was not she who had boarded up the hole). He remembered El, sort of. He remembered vaguely seeing a child in a dress, telling him that his mother was coming. He hadn’t believed her. He hadn’t even thought she was real. He had resigned himself to the fact that no one was coming, and that he was going to die there.

He didn’t remember being rescued. He remembered waking up in the hospital, though. He remembered how absurdly clean it had seemed by contrast. He remembered seeing his mother, his brother, and his friends.

As he started his third lap, he remembered the weeks immediately following his return. He remembered his friends’ dramatic reports of the events in his absence. He remembered the revulsion he had felt when he discovered that they had thought he had died. If he was honest, he wasn’t quite sure he had ever forgiven Dustin for letting that slip. Lucas and Mike had been livid. Because then, of course, he had to be told everything. He wasn’t sure he wanted to remember the look on Mike’s face when he’d told Will, at his request, that there was a grave out in the cemetery marked with his own name on it. He remembered, in spite of the horror of this discovery, his intense gratitude to Mike for being so honest. He doubted that anyone else would have told him; in fact, when he eventually plucked up the courage to go and look, he found nothing, except a few telltale marks in the ground where the turf had been turned over. He remembered how sheltered he had been afterwards. He remembered how antsy and irritable he had become at people for babying him, or pitying him, or constantly asking if there was something wrong. He remembered that Mike never did this. He alone treated him like a normal person, while still being supportive and willing to listen if Will needed to talk.

As he started his fourth lap, he remembered that Christmas, when he spat something into the sink and had the first of what Mike would later dub his ‘now-memories’. He remembered his thirteenth birthday. It was a quiet affair, with just him, his mother, Jonathan, Mike, Lucas and Dustin. Mike was quiet, as he often was during that year. Will remembered how sad Mike had been about losing El. He remembered how desperately he had wanted to tell Mike how he felt about him, but had never dared to do so. He remembered the first night he’d seen the Shadow, looming over the town, distant but drawing nearer. He remembered the night of Halloween, when he had watched as the Shadow rose above Hawkins’ buildings, seemingly looking straight at him and pursuing him. He remembered Mike telling him that they’d go crazy together. He wondered if this was the time for him to tell him, before remembering how Mike had immediately said that El would have understood what Will was going through. He remembered noting the irony in this particular statement. He remembered the day Dustin had brought D’Artagnan into school. He remembered holding the slug-like creature in his hands, and how intensely he had been reminded of the taster of hell he had experienced the previous year.

As he crossed the line into his fifth lap, Will remembered Dart’s escape. He forced himself to remember the intensely cold sensation of the Mind Flayer invading his entire body, filling him up and forcing him out. He remembered little of the following days – emotions more than events. He remembered the sickness he had felt upon realising that he had sent dozens to their deaths. He remembered the anger of being tricked about where he was… no, wait, that wasn’t him. He remembered his desperation in reaching out, and the relief in realising it was finally over. He remembered the following day, meeting El properly for the first time. He remembered the momentary jealousy he had felt upon seeing her holding Mike’s hand. He remembered this feeling immediately passing as El wrapped him in a genuine, almost urgent, hug.

As he started his final lap, he remembered the Snow Ball. He remembered how close he had come to actually asking Mike to dance, before being asked to dance himself. He remembered seeing Mike and El together, completely oblivious to the admittedly sweet girl with whom he was dancing. He remembered the day the couple had parted ways, and the day he had forced himself to tell Mike the truth. He remembered Mike’s almost blasé response, casually asking him out on a date.

He was approaching the final corner, and broke into a sprint, leaping across the finish line triumphantly. He jammed a finger onto the button of the stopwatch and glanced at the time. Forty-one minutes and twenty-six seconds. Not by any means the best he could do, with a bit of practice, but since he had never before run three full miles in one go, he was pleased. He pulled the sweatband from his forehead and lifted his jersey to rub his sweat-sodden face on it.

“Good job, Byers,” smiled Coach Callaghan, passing him a water bottle. “Solid effort out there.”

“Thanks, coach,” he gasped, taking a long drink.

“Go get yourself showered, then get on home.” Will nodded and headed back to the changing rooms. The water wasn’t exactly hot, but compared with the damp evening air, it felt like a sauna, and he found himself going to meet Mike feeling considerably more cheerful.

 

“You’re late back,” said Mike in surprise when Will found him at the bike racks. “The others have all gone.”

“I did three miles today,” Will said proudly. “That’s why I was longer.” He pulled out his bike.

“Nice job!” Mike was clearly impressed. “Can you come over tonight?” Will shook his head.

“Sorry. I have an art project to finish. Tomorrow though?”

“Sure thing,” said Mike. They walked their bikes until they reached the junction to Mike’s cul-de-sac. “Hey, look, there’s no one around.”

“Huh, would you look at that,” Will murmured, leaning over to kiss him. Their noses bumped in the dark, making Will giggle, but they tried again, stopping only when Mike heard a car engine somewhere in the distance.

“So much for avoiding my germs.”

“Oh, shut up,” muttered Will, but chuckling nonetheless.

“See you tomorrow,” Mike said gently.

“Sure,” smiled Will, squeezing his hand. “Hey, Mike?”

“Hm?”

“There’s something…” He hesitated. “There’s something I forgot to write down in chemistry today. Could I borrow your notes?”

“Oh, sure. I think I left them in my locker, though. Can I give them to you tomorrow?”

“That’s fine, thanks.”

“Cool. See you.” And with that, Mike was gone. Will sighed to himself.

“El’s going to kill me.”


	3. Light Breathing

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Faced with a cold, dark, day, Will starts to test his powers.

Will groaned as he opened his curtains the next morning. Even though it was still dark, he could clearly see that overnight, the hard ground had vanished under a blanket of unspoilt snow, as deep as the top of the porch steps. School would almost certainly be closed, although he had not yet heard the telephone to confirm this. He leaned on the windowsill and stared out at the snow, which was still falling gently. A month ago he would have been thrilled; in fact, a month ago, he had been thrilled, as an equally heavy snowfall had forced the schools to close for an entire week. Now, though, it was a nuisance more than anything else.

He pulled on a sweater over his pyjamas and wandered out into the hall. His mother was up, as usual, but to his surprise was neither making breakfast nor frantically searching for her car keys. She was standing in the dark, shining a flashlight into the fuse box, frowning. She glanced round when she heard him.

“Were the lights working last night?” she asked.

“I think so,” Will said, his stomach knotting with apprehension. Had he done it again? “They were when I went to bed, anyway.” His mother hummed in response, closed the fuse box and shivered.

“Is that radiator on?” Will placed a hand on it and shook his head. Out of curiosity, he then lifted the phone handset.

“This isn’t working either,” he said.

“Snow must have pulled down a power line,” Joyce tutted. “I’m sure you won’t be going to school today, but you can’t stay here either, you’ll freeze to death.” Will’s heart sank.

“Please don’t make me come to work with you.”

“No, that’s alright. I daresay one of your friends will be willing to have you over.” She scanned the room and retrieved her keys from one of the coffee tables.

“You can’t drive to work, surely?” Will said in disbelief. Joyce paused.

“Damn. Didn’t think of that.” She put them back down again and glanced at her watch. “I’ll have to walk. I’ll just apologise. I suppose everyone’ll be running late today.” She hugged her youngest son. “See you later, sweetie. There’s another flashlight on the table if you need it. Have a good day.” The door slammed and she was gone. Will yawned into the darkness and considered his options. So, the power was out indefinitely. It would be light within the hour, judging the LED display on his watch, but he couldn’t make coffee or toast, and he dared not open the refrigerator if the power was out. That said, it was probably nearly as cold in the room, he thought with a shiver. No power also meant no hot water, as his mother had presumably already used up the stored hot water for her own shower.

Will sighed and was about to return to his room when a thought occurred to him. He knew from El’s experiment that he could absorb and exude light. However, he seemed to be in the perfect situation to determine whether or not he could create light without absorbing it first. Feeling a little foolish, he closed his eyes and held out a hand. He imagined the light as he had done before, picturing a small, blue-white globe of light sitting in his hand. He opened his eyes; to his amazement, it seemed to have worked. It was small and dim, but undeniable. “Okay,” he breathed. “Don’t get over-excited. You don’t want to hurt yourself.” He forced himself to breathe, and his eyes widened as he noticed that the light grew brighter as he exhaled, before dimming again each time on each inward breath. He lifted his hands so that they were closer to his face, and gently blew on the little sphere of light. In that moment he was forced to squint from how powerful the light became. An idea occurred to him. He turned away from the light and took a deep breath in. He then turned back and blew hard on the tiny beam of light, throwing it upwards into the air above him. It hovered just below the ceiling, bouncing around slightly. Will had the bizarre impression that it was waiting for instructions. He thought for a moment, closed his hands into fists and opened them sharply. As it had done at El’s, the little ball broke off into smaller drops of blue-white light. Will pointed to different lights around the room – the ceiling light, the flashlight on the table, the lamp on the coffee table were all illuminated. There were still several left, so he pointed to the microwave oven. To his very slight disappointment, it lit up, but made no motion, so he pointed it back out again. He pondered what to do with them, and then tried wandering into the next room. The little lights followed him and hovered around his head. One whizzed past his ears and made his hair ruffle. “What are you?” he murmured curiously. Were they alive? Did they understand him? Will wasn’t sure. He pointed again to the different sources of light around the room, and they lit them up obligingly. He continued in this way all around the house, until there were none left. The sun had come up by this time, but Will had hardly noticed. He stood in the centre of the house and admired his handiwork. Suddenly he heard a van pull up, and glanced outside. Some workmen climbed out and started looking over the fallen power lines. Suddenly one of them pointed to his house, and the other wandered over. Will gasped. Unsure what to do, he blindly followed his instinct and snapped his fingers. All the tiny beads of light flew from their resting place back to his hands, and he clasped them tightly. The house went into semi-darkness again. He picked up the second flashlight as the workman knocked on the door. Will answered it, flashlight still in hand. “Hi, can I help you?”

“We came to fix your power lines,” said the man, looking suspiciously at Will. “But we noticed there were lights on in your house. Is your electricity working?” By way of demonstration, Will flicked one of the switches a few times.

“It might have been my flashlight you saw,” Will suggested. “Otherwise… trick of the light, perhaps?” The man did not look convinced, but did not pursue it any further.

“Well… alright. We’re hoping to have it fixed by the end of the day but I can’t make promises. Take care, kid.” He tipped his cap in Will’s direction and trudged back through the snow towards his colleague. Will closed the door and let out a sigh of immense relief. He opened his hand, but the lights he had produced did not immediately reappear.

 

Will dressed quickly and slipped out in his thickest coat and snowboots, flashing the workmen an innocent smile as he passed. A short while later, he was being ushered inside by El, who was still in her pyjamas, shaking the snow off his boots.

“Hop’s still had to go to work, but he won’t mind you being here. Come on in, I’ll make you some coffee.”

“Thanks,” said Will, still a little breathless from the cold. “Sorry to ask, but is there anything I can eat?”

“You haven’t eaten?” she asked, her eyebrows lifting in disapproval. Will shook his head, and El tutted. “Honestly! We have oatmeal, toast, Eggos and some fruit. What do you want?”

“Toast is fine, thanks.” They chatted while Will made himself some breakfast, and El made coffee for him, and tea for herself. Eventually they sat down at the kitchen table to eat.

“So,” El began, cupping her hands around her tea and blowing gently on it. “Did you tell him?”

“Tell who what?” said Will, taking a bite out of his toast to stall her. She scowled at him.

“You know full well.”

“No, alright? I didn’t,” Will said, slightly irritably. “Want to know why?” El said nothing, so he continued. “Because ever since the Upside Down, Mike is the only person who never looked at me like I was a freak, or treated me like a baby, or anything. He just went on being my friend, acting almost the same as he had before. And it was nice,” he said, his voice cracking slightly.

“And you don’t want him to start now,” said El quietly, and Will nodded.

“I’m sick of everything changing,” he said. “Would you believe I actually want a quiet life?” She offered him one of her small smiles.

“Sorry for pestering you. You don’t have to tell him.”

“No, I think I should,” said Will through a mouthful of marmalade. “I just want to do it in my own time. Anyway,” he said, finishing his toast and carefully brushing the crumbs off his hands onto his plate. “I wanted to show you something.”

“Oh?” El eyed him curiously over the top of her mug. He stood up and switched off the kitchen lights. “Hey, cut it out!” He ignored her, and demonstrated what he had done earlier that morning. He grinned at her, his face illuminated by the gently bobbing lights hovering around his head. She stood up and came closer to him, fascinated.

“That’s incredible,” she said softly. “Are they, like, alive, or what?”

“I have no idea.”

“Does it hurt?” She held out a hand and one of the lights drifted over and settled on her palm.

“No, not this time,” said Will, scattering the lights around the room. “Does it hurt you?” She shook her head.

“Not at all.”

“Now watch this,” he said, and snapped his fingers. As before, the lights flew back to that hand and vanished.

“Oh,” said El, disappointed. “I was enjoying that.” Will flicked the light switch again and the fluorescent lights flickered back on again. “Well, anyway, that’s incredible.”

“Thanks,” he said, smiling. Almost as though she was determined not to be outdone, she held out her hand and her half-empty tea mug soared gently into her grasp. “Showoff.” She smirked at that. Suddenly, the telephone rang, startling them both. They both gave a nervous laugh, and then El lifted it to her ear.

“Hello?” There was a pause, in which El winced. Will gave her a quizzical look, and she shook her head. “Uh, yes, who is this?” She twiddled the cord around her fingers. “Oh, hi, Mrs Byers.” El said, glancing across at Will, who frowned. “Yeah, he’s here. Do you want to talk to him?” Another pause. “Sure, I’ll pass you along.”

“What’s the matter?” Will hissed.

“She called me Jane,” El muttered, and Will rolled his eyes.

“Hi, mom,” he said. “What’s going on?”

“We’ve been overrun this morning with people stocking up for the snow again. I think I’m going to have to stay later than I expected because Donald’s put in a special order to make up for it.”

“Oh, right.”

“Can you stay at Jane’s for dinner?” she continued. “Obviously tell Hopper I’m really sorry.”

“Don’t call her that, mom, she doesn’t like it,” said Will, possibly for the thousandth time. “And I’ll ask. Otherwise I’ll go to Mike’s.”

“Thanks, sweetie. I love you, I’ll see you tonight.”

“Love you too.” He put the phone down. “Sorry about her.” El shrugged.

“S’alright. What did she want?"

“She’s working late,” Will sighed. “Can I stay for dinner?”

“I wouldn’t,” said El mournfully. “Hop’s making a casserole.”

“Oh, God,” Will said, wrinkling his nose and redialling the phone. It rang a few times before a young girl’s voice answered.

“Hello?”

“Hi, is that Holly?” he said. El smirked.

“Who is this?”

“It’s Will Byers. Can I talk to your mom or Mike, please?”

“Oh, hi, Will!” said Holly excitedly. Will heard a mumbling in the background. “Mom’s here.” There was a ‘thunk’, which Will presumed was Holly simply dropping the receiver on the coffee table.

“Hi, Will, sorry about that.” Karen Wheeler’s voice was contrite, but slightly clipped. “Is everything okay?”

“Hi, Mrs Wheeler, yeah, everything’s fine,” said Will, before explaining the situation.

“Of course you can come for dinner, no problem,” she said. “It’ll cheer Mike up, at any rate.”

“What’s wrong with him?” Will frowned.

“I don’t know, he’s just been in one of his moods today. I daresay you’ll hear about it when you get here.”

“Oh, I’m sure,” Will murmured.

“Indeed. We’ll eat at six, but come whenever you like,” she said.

“Thanks, Mrs Wheeler. See you later.” He hung up the phone again.

“What was that about?”

Will jumped; he had almost forgotten El was there. “Mike’s in a bad mood, apparently.”

“Hm,” she said, dipping a large spoon into a pot of yoghurt. “Wonder why.”

“I’m not sure,” Will admitted. He could think of nothing that had happened the previous day that could have set him off. “Although I expect I’ll find out.”

 

That evening, a rather disgruntled Hopper forced his truck through the snow to the Wheelers’, not entirely convinced by Will’s rather feeble excuse for spurning his casserole.

“Hi,” said Mike, a little breathlessly as he quickly ushered Will indoors. Karen Wheeler flashed Will a smile from the kitchen. “Mom, we’re gonna go to my room.”

“Okay, honey,” she said, her focus on a pot on the stove. “Dinner in about fifteen minutes.”

“Got it,” said Mike.

“Thanks again for having me over, Mrs Wheeler,” said Will, and Mike rolled his eyes at his boyfriend’s politeness. Will hardly heard Karen’s response, so distracted was he by Mike pushing him up the stairs. Mike led Will into his room, closing and locking the door behind them. “Goodness,” said Will, raising an eyebrow. Mike didn’t even bother fixing him with a withering look, but crossed the room and pressed his lips against Will’s, who was slightly taken aback by his urgency but reciprocated in earnest. This was, after all, the longest window of time alone all week, and they were so touch-starved that they were now locked in a seemingly desperate, almost hungry embrace. They momentarily broke apart to draw breath, until Mike held Will’s face in his hands and pulled him back in again. They sank onto the bed, and Will’s hands lifted to Mike’s head, his fingers running through the soft curls at the nape of his neck. Will ventured further, his tongue brushing against Mike’s teeth, and it was as though a switch had been flipped. Suddenly Mike’s hands were on Will’s shoulders, pushing him down onto his back as he eased his mouth open. Will took the hint and could soon taste Mike’s signature peppermint gum on his tongue. He retreated and took an exploratory nibble of Mike’s lower lip, causing him to let out a soft sigh. As endearing as Will found this, it had the unfortunate effect of allowing a giggle to escape his lips, and his body stiffened as he tried to stifle it.

“What’s wrong?” said Mike, sitting up and appraising his boyfriend. “Did I do something?”

“Sorry,” said Will, sobering up. “It’s just that you’re cute.” Mike, already flushed to his roots, reddened even deeper.

“Yeah, alright.”

“You don’t believe me?” said Will, sitting up and frowning. Mike shrugged.

“I don’t know.” Will kissed him once more.

“Well, I do,” he said gently, stroked his cheek and smiled reassuringly at him. He lay back again, propping himself up on his elbows. Mike took this to be an invitation, and responded willingly. After another minute or two, he shifted himself from his slightly awkward position of half-lying alongside Will, to nervously putting one of his long legs over Will’s body and leaning down from all fours. _This is new,_ Will thought, lifting himself an inch or so to make contact with Mike’s lips again. After a minute, Mike withdrew, before sucking on his lips and placing a gentle kiss to Will’s forehead. He then flopped down next to Will.

“God, I’ve missed you,” he sighed, reaching for Will’s hand and interlocking their fingers.

Will frowned in confusion. “Today?”

“Well, yes, but this week too.”

“You’ve seen me every day,” said Will, puzzled. “Except for the first day you were ill.”

“Yes, but I’ve missed these moments,” Mike explained, stroking the back of Will’s hand with his thumb. He dropped his voice. “When you can be my boyfriend and not just my best friend.” Will turned his head to look at him.

“Me too,” he said. “Will it get easier, do you think?” Mike shrugged.

“Probably. I mean, I suppose we’ll tell the Party eventually.”

“That’s true. That’ll help, I think.” They were silent for a moment. Internally, Will was having an argument with himself. On the one hand, he had the perfect opportunity to tell Mike about his new powers. On the other hand, he was terrified. The battle between his logical mind and his anxiety raged for a minute or two. “Hey, Mike?”

“Mm?” Mike turned his head and Will noticed, not for the first time, how dark Mike’s eyes were. He took a deep breath.

“Can I tell you something?”


	4. Light-Headed

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Will and Mike head back to school - but Will's a little out of sorts.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I think it's safe to say that this will be the last update before Christmas. There might be one before the New Year, but if not, I hope you have a very happy Christmas (or whatever you celebrate!) and a happy New Year. Stay safe everyone :)

Down the hall, the grandfather clock chimed twice. Will sighed and rolled onto his back, shoving his hands behind his head and staring at the ceiling. He shifted uncomfortably in his sleeping bag. His mother had called to ask if he could stay over at Mike’s, as she was going to be even later, and didn’t want him there by himself. Karen Wheeler, bless her charitable soul, had agreed before Will even found out this conversation had happened. Which meant that Will was now lying on a gradually-deflating air mattress. Fortunately, Mike’s mom had driven him back to his house to collect his overnight things, but this did not altogether make up for the fact that he had now been lying awake for the best part of three hours.

He kept running through the conversation he’d had with Mike. If he was honest, it could have gone worse. A lot worse. Mike didn’t call him a freak, he didn’t break up with him, he didn’t throw him out of his house in revulsion or panic. Which, Will thought, had never been very likely. He did not, however, express the curiously pleased sort of wonder that El had. In true ‘Mike’ fashion, he asked a lot of questions (most of which Will was unable to answer), and obviously had asked for a demonstration. They had then been called for dinner, but afterwards they had retreated back to Mike’s room, and Will had shown him everything he had discovered he could do by then.

It was at that point, Will thought, that things had started to go a bit wrong. Will had planned to complete the display by showing Mike how he could make the lights disappear. He snapped his fingers, and they vanished, just as they had before. Unusually, though, he had suddenly felt very light-headed, and the next thing he knew, Mike was shaking him awake. He had collapsed, and had fallen off the bed and onto the floor, and he could feel something wet dripping out of his nose. Mike gave him a handkerchief, and Will noticed in alarm that it was stained dark red when he brought it away from his face. Mike looked even more concerned, but at Will’s request did not tell his parents what had happened.

Will had barely had time to recover when Mrs Wheeler had knocked and come into the room, telling them that Will was staying the night. After that, Will had gone back to his house, and then they had been sucked into a game Holly wanted to play, and then Will, exhausted from his efforts, had dozed off for an hour and a half. Which, he realised as he rolled back onto his side, was probably why he was now wide awake. He felt a sudden urge to sneeze which he just about managed to stifle, but not very well. Immediately he saw Mike’s head lift from the pillow across the room.

“Will? Are you okay?” Had he been awake this whole time too? Or had he just woken up?

“Yeah, I’m alright,” Will whispered back. “I just can’t sleep.”

“Me neither,” said Mike, sitting up and switching on his bedside lamp. So he had been awake. “Do you want to talk?”

Will hesitated. “I think we probably should.” Mike nodded and patted his duvet. Will wriggled out of his sleeping bag and clambered up to sit opposite Mike. “Are you mad at me?”

“Mad?” Mike said, confused. “Why would I be mad?”

“I don’t know,” Will admitted. “I just feel bad.”

“Will, it wasn’t your fault that you passed out.”

“No, I know,” said Will. “I mean that I didn’t tell you right away.”

“How long have you known?” Mike said, twisting his bedsheet around his fingers.

“Only a few days. But I was just nervous about telling you.”

“Why?”

“I don’t know,” said Will, picking at a loose thread on his pyjama sleeve. “I guess ‘cause you’re the only one who’s never looked at me like I’m a freak, or whatever.”

“You’re not a freak,” said Mike firmly, looking at him directly in the eyes.

“Well…” Will started to object, but Mike cut him off.

“No, you’re not. And even if you are, it’s awesome,” he went on. “Will, you have superpowers! Imagine telling yourself like five years ago that you’d have superpowers someday!” Will smiled at that.

“I guess so.”

“I’m sorry if I made you think you were weird,” said Mike a lot more gently. “You know I would never think that, right?” Will nodded. “Come here.” Will shuffled up the bed until he was sat next to Mike, and rested his head on his shoulder. Mike kissed the top of his head then leaned so that his head was on Will’s.

“Thank you,” said Will, reaching for Mike’s hand.

“Just tell me,” Mike said slowly. “Has it ever been as bad as it was earlier?”

“No,” said Will. “I felt tired the first time I did it but that’s never happened before.”

“I wonder why.”

Will shrugged. “That’s the longest I’ve spent testing my powers in one go,” he suggested.

“That could be it,” Mike said thoughtfully. “Or maybe an emotional strain.”

“What do you mean?”

“Well, you were nervous about telling me, right? That could have contributed.”

“That’s true,” Will said.

“I don’t suppose you were nervous telling El, were you?”

“How do you know I told her?” Will turned to look at him, jolting Mike and making him jump.

“You said earlier that you didn’t tell me right away,” Mike said. “But your silent conversation at the lunch table yesterday showed that something was up. I figured it was probably this.”

“Oh yeah,” said Will, smiling sheepishly. “You don’t mind, do you?”

“Of course not,” Mike said, gently nudging his shoulder. “It makes far more sense to tell her than me.” They sat in comfortable silence for a moment before Will spoke.

“Alright. I’m going to try and get some sleep. If we’re back at school tomorrow I’ll be screwed.” He stood up, but Mike caught his hand. “What?”

“I don’t suppose…” Mike hesitated, apparently nervous. “…you want to sleep here?”

 

Will didn’t reply for a moment. They had never shared a bed before. At the Party’s last sleepover, they had lain next to each other and had chanced holding hands. By the time everyone had woken up, though, they had pulled apart, and they had always slept next to each other at sleepovers, even when Mike was dating El. That, however, was the extent of it. They had never slept in the same bed, like couples do, and the thought of it scared Will a little. He didn’t know why.

Perhaps it was a result of what his father, and the world in general, had drilled into him since he was tiny, that boys didn’t date boys. He was training himself to ignore this little voice in the back of his head, and he denounced it each time it popped up, but the concept of sharing a bed with Mike seemed to be the ultimate _screw you_ to this mindset, and he wasn’t sure he was ready for it.

Perhaps it was because of the thought of what else couples did in beds. Will would be lying if he denied ever having thought about it, particularly with Mike, but there was no way he was ready to go that far just yet.

Perhaps it was because he didn’t like the idea of having one of his night terrors with Mike only an inch from him.

Perhaps it was simply because he was scared that someone might find out.

 

“Don’t worry,” Mike said quickly. “I’m sorry I suggested it, I don’t know what I was thinking.”

“No,” said Will hastily. “I want to. Sorry I hesitated.” Mike’s eyebrows lifted in surprise as he flicked back the duvet. Will climbed in next to Mike and lay facing him.

“Hi,” said Mike, smiling as he squeezed his hand.

“Hey,” Will chuckled, a little breathlessly. He leaned in to kiss Mike. “Night.” He rolled over and shuffled a little closer to Mike, who closed the distance between them and Will felt his boyfriend pressing his body against his.

“Your feet are cold,” Mike whispered.

“Thanks,” Will murmured, half-asleep and far too tired to be listening properly.

 

Will woke next morning to the sound of someone knocking on the door. Immediately wide awake, he shot out of the bed and dived into his sleeping bag just as the door opened. He feigned sleepiness as Mrs Wheeler came in and surveyed them.

“Morning.”

“Good morning, sweetie,” she smiled. “School’s back on today. Wake Mike, will you?” Will nodded. “Thanks. Breakfast in ten minutes, okay?”

“Thanks, Mrs Wheeler.” The door closed again and Will slumped back in relief, then winced. The air mattress had now completely deflated. “Mike?” An incoherent grunt came from the bed. Will was astonished that he had not stirred when he had leapt from the bed, yet Mike was not awake. Well, not quite. He extricated himself from the sleeping bag again, climbed onto the bed and gently rubbed his boyfriend’s shoulder. “Miiiiiiike,” he grinned in a sing-song voice. But Mike simply rolled onto his other side. “Come on, Mikey,” he murmured, using the pet name he reserved for when he was trying to convince Mike to do something.

“Don’t wanna go. Five more minutes.”

“Mike,” Will laughed. “You have to, school’s back on.” Mike rolled back over and squinted at him.

“Really?”

“Uh-huh.”

Mike groaned and rolled back over. Will leaned over and kissed Mike’s cheek. “Your mom’s making us breakfast.”

“Ugh, fine.” He sat up and rubbed his eyes. Will smiled fondly at him.

“’Attaboy.”

 

Will went to the bathroom to wash his face and get dressed, and then joined Mike and Holly at the breakfast table. The alertness he had experienced after waking had faded and now he just felt sleepy. Mike, on the other hand, had perked up considerably. Will poured himself some cereal and Mike shoved the coffee pot towards him.

“Thanks,” said Will, pouring some and sipping it.

“Mike, are you not eating?” His mother appraised him severely.

“It’s too early,” he grumbled. “I’ll eat later.”

“You’re not to buy snacks from the school vending machines.” She pointed her dish-cloth at him. “You hear me?”

“Fine,” said Mike, rolling his eyes. “I’ll starve until lunchtime.”

“Come on, you three,” she said. “Mike, Will, I’ll drive you to school, but we’ll need to stop at Will’s house to get his school things.”

“Oh,” said Will, struggling to focus and slightly overawed by her generosity. “Thank you, Mrs Wheeler.”

“Of course,” she smiled. “Come along, all of you.”

 

He was still not quite with it when they were at their lockers thirty minutes later. They had just started walking to homeroom when Will absentmindedly made to hold Mike’s hand, but Mike slapped his hand away.

“What are you doing?” he hissed. Will looked blankly at him.

“Hm?”

“Are you okay?” Mike was clearly starting to worry. “You just tried to hold my hand. Are you, like, concussed or something?”

“No, sorry,” Will mumbled, stifling a yawn. “I’m just tired.”

“Did I keep you up?” Mike said softly, his voice full of concern.

“No, no, not at all,” Will said hurriedly. “I don’t know why I’m so tired,” he said, yawning again.

“Is it the powers?” Mike asked, lowering his voice considerably.

Will shrugged. “Maybe.” They split up to take their seats, and as it transpired, that would be the last they’d speak for some time.

 

Fifteen minutes later, Mike and Dustin left the room for their biology class. Will stayed behind for his American Literature class, switching seats to sit at the back with Max. “What’s up with you today?” she asked suspiciously. “You’re all in a daze.”

“I’m just tired,” Will said, attempting to shrug it off.

“You stayed at Mike’s last night, didn’t you?” she said, her piercing blue eyes scrutinising him. “And you’re tired,” she added as an afterthought. “Curious.” People started flooding in, and Will fought for a response.

“I slept on the floor,” he said.

“Did you really,” she said, reaching into her backpack. It was not phrased as a question. Alarm bells were ringing in Will’s head. Had she figured something out? Had El let something slip?

“Uh, yes.” Will was saved by their irritable teacher, Mr Downing, calling the class to order. Will did not pay Max much attention for the rest of the lesson, but in his peripheral vision he could see her glancing in his general direction every so often.

 

He accosted her at recess; she was on her way to meet Lucas when Will tapped her on the shoulder.

“What was with the Spanish Inquisition back there?” He realised his suspicion was probably incriminating, but he had to figure out what was going on. She sighed, glanced around, and ushered him into an abandoned classroom.

“Will… I know about you and Mike.”

“I don’t – what? I mean, what?” Will spluttered.

“I saw you this morning,” she said softly. “I was walking behind you. I’m positive no one else noticed, but I saw you try to hold his hand.” Will blushed to the roots of his hair.

“That wasn’t – you didn’t…” He could think of no defence.

“Am I wrong?” she asked. “Because if I am, and I’ve offended you, then I’m sorry.” Will forced himself to breathe.

“You’re – you’re not wrong.” She gave a small smile.

“I didn’t think so.”

“It’s cool if you don’t want us to hang out with you guys anymore,” said Will, unable to meet her eyes.

“What?” Max looked at him like he was an idiot. “Will, I don’t care if you’re gay.” Will looked up in surprise.

“Really?”

“Hell, no! I wondered if you had a crush on him the moment I met you,” she said, laughing gently. “And to be honest, it was kind of obvious that he liked you too, even when he was still with El.”

“Oh,” was all that Will could think to say.

“Honestly, I think you two are adorable. Even when you weren’t together, you guys were just the cutest, closest friends I’ve ever seen.” She glanced at the clock and gave him a hug. “I should go meet Lucas. See you at lunch.”

“Max, wait.” She paused at the door.

“Don’t tell anyone, will you?”

She gave him a withering look. “Like I would. Really, Byers? Do you know me at all?” Will stepped out after her and watched her leave. He wasn’t really looking forward to telling Mike that he, Will, had given them away, but if it was only Max then it couldn’t be too bad.

“Huh. Maybe it’s not a fag after all,” said a voice from behind him.

 

Will turned to see Troy and his usual lackeys leaning on the lockers. _Oh, good,_ he thought. _My favourite people._ He turned away again, planning on simply walking away as he had done before, when Troy spoke again. “Stealing people’s girlfriends, fairy-boy? That’s low, even for filth like you.” His henchmen chuckled appreciatively.

“Go take a long walk off a short pier, Harrington,” said Will without turning around. Troy picked up his pace and was suddenly stood in front of Will, who ground sharply to a halt. He went to step back but was blocked by James. Harvey, the third one, blocked his escape from the side.

“I don’t appreciate your tone, Byers,” said Troy threateningly. “Maybe it’s time for a public demonstration of what happens to faggots who step out of line.” His brain still foggy with tiredness, Will, who was usually quick with a comeback, could think of nothing. His heart was pounding in his chest. Above them, a fluorescent light started to flicker. Troy didn’t notice. Standing taller than Will, he was at the perfect height to pass unnoticed by teachers in a crowd, but tall enough to force Will to look up at him. “What do you think, boys?” Troy said, folding his arms and cocking his head. “I was going to punch him, but I don’t want to get my hands dirty.” With that, Troy spat in his face. Instinctively, Will shut his eyes and his hands moved to protect his crotch, but a swift jab in the abdomen from Troy’s knee left Will winded and bent double, trying to catch his breath. This was rapidly followed by a kick in the behind from James which sent him crashing to the floor. His teeth pierced his lower lip and he tasted blood. Will groaned, rolled onto his side and drew his knees up to his chest for protection. This earned him another kick, to the shins this time. Will’s head was spinning and his pulse was racing, and even Troy’s impossibly stupid sidekicks had not failed to notice that the ceiling lights were now going absolutely haywire.

“Uh, Harrington?” one of them muttered, but Will hardly heard.

“What?” Troy snapped, annoyed at the interruption. Will could feel energy coursing through his veins, his body and his new powers working together, trying to compensate for the physical pain he was experiencing. “What the hell..?” While they were momentarily distracted, Will forced himself to stand up, and wiped Troy’s saliva off his face. Troy looked with horror into his face and saw a tiny flame apparently burning in the pupils of his eyes. The lights gave one more flash and went out, and the hall was dark and silent.

A moment passed.

Suddenly a jet of flame flew, unbidden, from Will’s right hand. Troy let out a howl of pain and covered his face with his hands. Blood trickling from his mouth and nose, Will vaguely noticed a small assembly of people approaching them, before his eyes rolled back in his head and he dropped to the floor once again.


	5. Fired Up

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Will deals with the consequences of his outburst, and decides to opt for a little honesty.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Man, was this a long time coming! One of these days I'll get around to actually planning where this is going. Oh well.

“Mike?” Will heard his voice croak out the name of the person he most wanted to see. He was disappointed, therefore, to see Nurse Phillips, the school medic, looking at him instead. A large lady in her early fifties, Nurse Phillips was well-known and well-liked around the school, and she often ended up acting as a sort of guidance counsellor for many students who found themselves in her office. In spite of her reputation of a wet paper towel being the appropriate treatment for most minor injuries, Will could not help but notice that on this occasion, she looked rather worried.

“Oh, hello,” she said, clearly straining to keep her voice casual. “How are you feeling?” He was lying on the distinctly uncomfortable bed in her office; he tried to prop himself up but found he had virtually no strength to do so.

“Tired,” he muttered. “And my head hurts.”

“Well, no wonder,” she said. “Would you like some water?” He nodded, then winced, and resolved not to nod again. “Here.”

“Thanks.” She helped him to sit up and gave him a couple of aspirin, which he took with a few sips of water.

“I want to see him!” said a voice, loud but rather distant.

“Mr Wheeler, I really must insist,” said a calm I’m-trying-not-to-get-mad-but-you’re-really-not-helping voice. “I’ve told you twice that Nurse Phillips is taking care of him, and that you can see him at lunch.”

“But he’s hurt!” protested the first voice.

“I’m fully aware of that,”  said the second. “But – ” Her sentence was cut off by a door banging open down the hall. A hiss of “Mr Wheeler!” sounded as the nurse’s office door opened, a lot more carefully. Will and Nurse Phillips looked round, with interest and alarm respectively.

“Will,” said Mike, looking immensely relieved. Ms White, the school secretary, attempted to seize him, but Mike dodged her grip. She threw her hands up in despair and stamped crossly back to the main office. “Can I stay?”

“Does it matter if I say no?” Nurse Phillips asked drily.

“Not really,” said Mike, plonking himself gracelessly onto one of the chairs. Nurse Phillips rolled her eyes and turned her attention to Will, who was smiling into his water.

“Will,” she said gently, “Principal Kaminsky has dealt with Mr Harrington and the other two. Several students have come forward testifying to what happened, and they have been suspended.”

“Oh,” Will said, uncertain of where this was going.

“However,” she went on, “there’s something we need to ask you.” Will picked at his trousers nervously. “There’s one thing no one can really explain, which is the burn on Mr Harrington’s face.”

“The what?” Mike and Will spoke in chorus, and looked at each other in surprise.

“His face is quite badly burned. His mother has taken him to the ER.” She felt Will’s forehead, for he had paled considerably. He flinched away from her touch; she furrowed her eyebrows but did not persist.

“Is he okay?” Mike tutted at Will’s compassion. No one paid him any attention.

“I expect he’ll be fine. But can you tell us how it happened?”

“Um… not really,” said Will half-truthfully. “I mean, I remember the lights going all weird. Maybe he got on the wrong end of a short circuit?”

“Hm, maybe.” Will had a momentary bout of déjà vu as he realised that Nurse Phillips was fixing him with the exact expression that his mother had when he’d told her he didn’t know why the lights had gone off. It was a look which expressed no small amount of scepticism, but also the knowledge that there was not enough evidence to incriminate him, or even challenge his claim. Will held her gaze. In his peripheral vision he could see Mike looking anxious, but it was vital that he should not crack. There was no way he could tell the truth. Eventually she turned away and started filling in a green form. “Well, his mother once told me a girl broke his arm with her mind, so who knows what explanation Mr Harrington will come up with when he comes back.” With her back turned, Will caught Mike’s eye and exhaled silently. “How are you feeling?”

“Better.”

“I’m glad. Do you feel up to going back to class, or would you rather go home?” She turned back around and appraised him over her wire glasses. He glanced at the clock on the wall.

“I think I’ll go to class, at least for now. It’s nearly lunchtime anyway.” He swung his legs down the side of the bed and slowly stood to his feet. He stumbled, but Mike leaped up and caught him.

“Are you sure?” he asked softly.

“Yes,” said Will firmly, trying another tentative step. He winced again and lifted his pant leg to reveal a very nasty purple bruise.

“Very well,” Nurse Phillips conceded. “Mr Wheeler, can you escort him, or should I come?”

“It’s alright, I can help him,” Mike nodded. “I’m in his class anyway. Come on, Will.”

 

He supported him until they were a little way down the hall.

“I can walk by myself now, thanks.” Mike reluctantly let go.

“That’s a hell of a bruise,” he said, gently touching Will’s cheek. He did not flinch. “And your lip doesn’t look too good either.”

“It’s fine,” said Will, then lowered his voice. “Although I may have to be a bit more careful when kissing you.” He smiled properly for the first time as Mike reddened slightly and glanced around.

“Yeah, maybe,” he admitted. “So what happened?” Will shrugged.

“I’m not sure. I’m sure I absorbed the power, but it came out as fire rather than the usual light.”

“That’s odd,” Mike mused, before seeing Will’s dejected face and realising the impact of what he’d said. “No, no, I don’t mean ‘you’re odd’, I mean it’s odd that your powers did something different.” Will looked happier, so Mike continued. “Maybe your powers are like… an extension of your mood?”

“What do you mean?”

“So, before, when you were testing your powers, there wasn’t really an emotion connected with them, right?”

“Right,” Will nodded noting that doing so didn’t hurt this time.

“This time around, you were angry. Scared. Under attack. I reckon the fire you produced was a manifestation of those emotions.” Will considered this.

“That’s… not a bad theory.” At his words, Mike looked pleased with himself. “I think I should tell the rest of the Party.”

“Really?” Mike said, surprised.

“Yeah. They’re bound to ask what happened, and I’d rather they heard it from me. Besides, they’re clever. They might have more ideas about why this has happened.”

“Well, if you’re sure, I’ll support you.”

“Mike, can we stop a moment?” Will paused and leaned against the wall.

“Of course.”

“While we’re on the topic of honesty,” he began, “Max saw me try to hold your hand this morning.”

Mike blinked. “Oh.”

“I’m really sorry, I don’t know what I was doing, I was so out of it this morning.”

“Yeah, I could tell.”

“But it’s okay,” Will said hastily. “She’s cool with it.”

“She is?”

“She said she’s really happy for us, actually.”

“Oh,” said Mike thoughtfully. “Well, I guess that just leaves Lucas and Dustin.”

“Yeah, I’m sorry. Are you mad?”

“No,” said Mike after a moment. “Actually I’m not. For some reason I was actually less nervous about telling her than the guys anyway, so I guess that’s worked quite well.” Will looked relieved. “Anyway, we should probably get back to class before they send a search party.”

“You’re probably right.”

* * *

 

“You’re kidding,” said Lucas slowly. “You have powers… like El?”

“Yes,” said Will. “Well, not exactly like El’s.” El glanced up from her book at the mention of her name.

“Nothing like El’s, really,” Mike put in. “But the effects are kind of the same.”

“Like the nosebleeds and stuff?” asked Dustin. Will nodded. “Whoa.”

“So if they’re not like El’s,” Lucas said, “what can you do?”

“I can make light,” said Will. “And fire, apparently.”

“Fire?” said Max, her eyebrows lifting. “Can you show us?” Will shook his head.

“Well, I could show you the light, but not the fire. That only surfaces when I’m experiencing a strong negative emotion, I think.”

“Like the Hulk?” said Dustin enthusiastically.

“What?” El wrinkled her nose, not looking up from her book. Dustin tutted at her ignorance.

“Mostly Bruce Banner is a normal guy, but when he gets angry he turns into the Hulk. Maybe Will’s the same.”

“Thanks for the comparison,” said Will drily. “But I think you may be right.”

“Can you show us the lights, then?” said Max, leaning forward intently and resting her head on her fists. Will glanced at Mike, who nodded reassuringly. Will took a deep breath, suddenly nervous. He held out a hand. The rest of the Party watched as a small flicker of yellow light appeared near the centre of his palm. The light grew stronger, and swelled in size. Murmurs of wonder and incredulity bounced around the room. Will felt a twinge in his side, but ignored it, launching the orb into the air, where it hovered a couple of feet below the ceiling of Mike’s basement. Will broke them up into pieces and they floated around his head. He pointed one to each of them to examine.

“Whoa,” breathed Dustin, cupping the little light in his hands and squinting at it.

“Is it alive?” Max said.

“I don’t think so,” said Will.

“Why’s it yellow?” El frowned, finally closing her book and holding the light up to her face.

“Why shouldn’t it be?” Lucas said, running a hand through it in disbelief.

“It wasn’t before,” Mike and El chorused, before looking at each other in surprise. The other three looked up slowly.

“You knew already?” said Dustin. Mike, El and Will exchanged nervous glances.

“Uh, yeah?” said El sheepishly.

“How long have you known?” asked Max.

“I mean, I only found out a few days ago,” Will said hastily before Mike or El could. “I told El first because, obviously, she has her own powers. Then I told Mike because he’s… that is, we tell each other everything.” Lucas and Max looked pacified, but Dustin still seemed miffed.

“I thought we all told each other everything,” he said in an uncharacteristically small voice. There was an uncomfortable silence, broken eventually by Lucas.

“I suppose we all have secrets,” he said with a shrug. “As long as we don’t actively lie to each other, and we’re honest about the stuff that matters, it’s okay, right?”

“Sure,” said Max, avoiding Will’s eye. Will knew she was thinking about him and Mike. Dustin did not look entirely convinced, but their conversation was brought to a grinding halt by a shout from above them.

“Kids!” Suddenly the door above them clicked. Will immediately snapped his fingers to make the lights disappear, just as Karen Wheeler appeared at the top of the basement stairs. “Time for dinner.”

“Sure thing, mom,” Mike called, as they all scrambled to their feet. “We’re coming.” El, Lucas, Dustin and Max hurried off, but Mike saw his boyfriend wobble on his feet and collapse back onto the couch. He crossed the room, crouched down and took his hand. “Hey, hey, hey… you alright?” Will nodded, his face slightly paler than usual.

“Yeah, I just… lost my balance.”

“Will, you can be honest.”

“No, really.” Will rubbed his eyes. “I’m always tired after I use my powers. I can’t help it. It’s not usually bad. I’ll be alright in a minute.” He eased himself to his feet again and swayed for a moment, clutching Mike’s arm, who had stood up with him.

“You good?”

“Yes,” said Will firmly.

“Mike!” Dustin’s voice sounded from the floor above them.

“We should go,” said Will, leaning heavily on the railing as he ascended the staircase.

Will was quiet through dinner. The atmosphere was tense anyway – none of the Party particularly liked Mike’s parents and never felt like they could be themselves around them. Nancy wasn’t even there to ask stimulating questions and take a genuine interest in their responses. They were also still absorbing the blast of the bombshell Will had dropped less than ten minutes before. They struggled through it, listening to Holly’s chatter, making polite conversation, giving deliberately vague responses about their days and desperately trying to protect Will from having to explain the numerous bruises on his face. They kept shooting him nervous looks, as he seemed to be spaced out to the point of nearly dozing off into his shepherd’s pie. Mike nudged him occasionally, which would momentarily shake him out of his reverie, before his eyes wandered off into the middle distance once more. 

All were relieved when they were excused from the table, traipsing back down to the basement.

“Will, you okay?” El said gently, touching his arm as they descended the stairs together.

“Uh, yeah. Just a little worn out. In fact,” he said, addressing the room in general, “I might head off.”

“It’s only just gone seven,” said Dustin in surprise.

“I know,” Will said. “But the, um, demonstration has left me feeling really drained. I just kind of want to go home.”

“I’ll bike back with you,” said El. “I have an assignment I want to check over before tomorrow anyway.” They hugged the others goodbye, put on their coats, and went to fetch their bikes, dragging them through the slush which had been left after the startlingly rapid thaw that afternoon.

El positioned herself on the saddle, but Will said, “Actually, I’d rather walk.”

“Alright,” she shrugged. “You want to talk?”

“Well, there is something,” Will nodded. “You used to feel tired after using your powers, right?”

“Yeah, used to,” she said. “Not so much these days. That said, I hardly use them anymore.”

“I’ve been feeling that,” he said. “It’s exhausting.”

“I remember.”

“Is there anything I can do about it?” he said anxiously.

“If I had to guess,” she said thoughtfully, “I’d say use your powers little and often. Try and get them under control to prevent outbursts like this morning. It should also get you more used to the side effects, I think.”

“Okay. I’ll give that a go.”

 

“Hi, honey,” smiled Joyce, standing from the couch when Will came in. “How was your…” she tailed off as he turned to face her. “Oh, my God.” She hurried over to him and examined his face frantically. “What the hell happened?”

“Oh, just Troy and his goons,” said Will, shrugging her off.

“Again? I’ve a good mind to call his mother and give her a piece of my mind!”

“No, mom, please,” said Will hurriedly. “Principal Kaminsky dealt with him. He’s been suspended.”

“Suspended? He should be arrested!” Joyce paced the room in fury.

“It’s okay, mom. Honestly, it doesn’t even hurt anymore.”

“Promise?”

“Promise,” said Will, noting that he was lying through his teeth to his mother for at least the second time in four days.

“Alright. But if it happens again,” she warned, “I’m calling Hopper.” Will nodded.

“Okay. But I’m really tired, so I’m going to go to my room. Good night.”

“Good night, honey. Love you.”

“Love you too.” Joyce turned away to lock the front door. If she had waited a second more, she might have seen her youngest son’s fingers twitch, the corner of his mouth flicker into a minute scowl and a tiny tongue of fire flash momentarily in his hands and the depths of his hazel eyes.

 

**END OF ACT ONE**


	6. Darkness Rises

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Something seems out of place - but neither Will nor El can figure out what it could be.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The eagle-eyed among you will have noticed a few minor changes since the last update - this is the result of me actually sitting down and planning the rest of this story!
> 
> The story will be in three 'acts' of five chapters each. We're now into Act Two and so things will be starting to ramp up action-wise. Watch this space! Enjoy :)

**ACT TWO**

 

All around, darkness fell. An odd darkness which seemed to grow continually stronger. Anyone else would have found it unsettling, but in the midst of this ether, a girl lay on her back in an inch of black water, thinking. Behind her were the days where this was her torture chamber. In the years since the Demogorgon, she had made it her den, her private space, her panic room. She affectionately referred to it as Castle Hopper. El gazed up into the eternal nothingness, reciting poetry in her head and meditating on the events of the past few weeks.

_Talk what you please of future-spring… and sun-warm’d sweet tomorrow… stripp’d bare of hope and everything… no more to laugh, no more to sing… I sit alone with sorrow._

El found comfort in poetry; she had done so since starting school. The Party had laughed fondly at her expression of wonderment in her first poetry lesson. She had immediately made a beeline for Hawkins Library and had scoured the shelves for every poetry anthology she could lay her hands on. Will had once asked her what it was that fascinated her so, and she had struggled to answer him fully. She supposed she found it easier to express her emotions – a skill to which she was not naturally disposed – through the simplicity of each line, rather than getting caught up in huge paragraphs of prose. Poetry was blunt, and didn’t waste words. Like her, Will had mused.

Similarly, she could not quite explain what it was that had brought this particular stanza to mind. _A Daughter of Eve_ , she thought, trying to think of the poet, and frowned as her mind drew a blank. She dismissed this intellectual failing. _It’ll come to me_ , she thought. Instead, she let her mind wander, urging the Void to enlighten her as to why she had thought of this specific poem. “Well,” she murmured. “I think the general message is fairly clear.” Doom and gloom to come.

This did not surprise her in the least, as she had felt a deep sense of dread in the pit of her stomach the night Will had sat on her bed and lit up her bedroom with his mind and his hands. If Will was discovering his own psychokinetic abilities, the paranormal world had to be moving. Nothing much yet, it seemed, but there were clearly tremors. It had occurred to her – on more than one occasion – that Will may have developed these apparently very specific powers to counter the power of an equally specific foe. The conclusion that could be reached was this: if Will could control light, this potential enemy had to lurk in the dark. Maybe it could even control darkness. El could not view either prospect with much enthusiasm.

Of course, she could simply be paranoid; it was possible that Will had simply picked up something in the air whilst in the Upside Down, and the argument had indeed flipped a switch inside him, unleashing this power. Her instincts could be completely wrong, and thus El had not confided these misgivings in anybody. She could see no sense in putting people on edge until she was sure there was something worth worrying about. _Christina Rosetti_ , she thought suddenly, smiling in satisfaction.

 _Talk what you please of future-spring…_ What could _that_ mean? She thought back over the week. It had actually been rather uneventful. Will had apparently suffered no lasting effects from his fiery outburst the previous week. He had been reserved and a little snappish for a day or two, which had concerned the other five, but they had made a collective unspoken agreement to cut him a little slack, as he had been through rather a lot in those few days. By that weekend, though, he was back to his quiet but generally contented, amicable self. He had even been able to laugh with the others (albeit nervously) at Troy wandering around with an absurd bandage covering most of his face.

El felt a soft thud echo around her. She sat up and glanced around her, but the omnipresent darkness in every direction indicated that the sound had not come from the Void. She sighed in annoyance, recognising the sound as her front door. She ignored it. After all, if someone had come to visit her, then there were only five people it could realistically be. It was far more likely that it was someone who had come to see Hopper. But then again… Spurred on by curiosity, she twitched her head, and suddenly she could observe the exchange a few feet below her. To her relief, Hopper was talking to the mailman. She gave a nod of approval, banishing the scene from her field of vision. She immediately felt a twinge of guilt, as she didn’t like using her powers to spy on people, but figured this hardly constituted spying. She snapped her head round suddenly and squinted into the depths. She could have sworn she’d heard footfalls in the water behind her. She stared intently for almost a full minute, before lying down again. Probably an echo of the mailman leaving. Hopefully. She let herself calm down and forced her mind to return to Rosetti.

Future-spring… Well, the timing made sense. February had turned into March. The snow had long thawed, and in their place, snowdrops had started to flower. Ivy was crawling up the wall of their cottage again, and the winter berries had dropped from the untamed holly bush in the garden. The temperature had shot up, and some of the more optimistic members of the Party – namely Max and Lucas – had decided it was warm enough for shorts already. El, who could barely tolerate shorts in the height of summer, thought this absurd, and made a point of saying so at every opportunity. She suddenly realised she was getting distracted again, shook her head and refocused.

 

“Well,” she said thoughtfully, her gentle voice reverberating through the emptiness. “Perhaps the proverbial winter isn't over yet. I guess it does make sense that the world is enjoying spring while I sit here – ”

“ – and sulk,” cut in a voice. Startled, El yanked the headband off her head. Hopper was standing in the doorway. “Anything interesting out there?” he asked drily.

“You know that’s not why I do it,” she muttered, irritated at having been interrupted. “It’s thinking space.”

“Yeah, I know. And I’m sorry to interrupt you. Your friend’s in the hall.”

“Which one?”

“Lucas.” He smirked at her vaguely surprised expression and wandered back down the stairs. El quickly changed out of her pyjamas, ran a brush through her hair and hurried after him.

“Hey!” Lucas smiled and leapt up from the chair he was sitting on.

“Hey, pal,” she said, looking quizzically at him. “What brings you here?”

“Just checking in,” he said. “You weren’t answering your radio.” El looked blankly at him, then remembered.

“Damn, I forgot to buy batteries yesterday. I knew there was something!” Lucas grinned.

“So you’re okay?”

“Yeah, fine. I’ve been hanging out in Castle Hopper.” She gave him a knowing look.

“Anything interesting?” he said, tilting his head curiously.

“Don’t you start.”

“What?” Lucas shook his head, perplexed. “Doesn’t matter. We’re hanging out at mine this evening. You coming?”

“Oh, sure. What time?”

“Whenever you like,” Lucas shrugged, and made to leave, but paused before opening the door. “Can I ask you something?” El nodded. “Have Mike and Will been acting weird lately?”

“How d’you mean?”

“I’m not sure, exactly. They’ve just seemed a little… I don’t know, off. Even before Will says he discovered his powers, they seemed like they knew something we didn’t.” El gave a non-committal hum, considering the conundrum she was now in. She had three obvious choices: lie, and say she knew nothing; lie, and say there was nothing going on; or tell the truth, and expose Will and Mike before they were ready.

“They seem okay to me,” she said, which seemed like a fair compromise between all three options, and was fairly near the truth. Fortunately, Lucas seemed to accept this.

“Must be paranoid. I just thought I’d ask.” He smiled. “See you later, El. The others are coming at about four.”

“Cool. See you then.” She smiled and saw him out, leaning against the door as she closed it and exhaling deeply. “Good thinking, El,” she muttered.

“You okay?” Hopper stood in the kitchen doorway drying a frying pan with a cloth, looking concerned.

“Yeah, why?” He looked sheepish.

“I’m sorry, kid, I didn’t mean to eavesdrop.”

“It’s okay, it’s not like we were being super quiet. And yeah, things are fine.” She paused. “Well, actually, things are a bit weird. Is it okay if I don’t tell you yet?”

“Yeah, of course. Whenever you’re ready to talk, you can.”

“Thanks, Hop.” She smiled. “Can I go into town? I need to buy batteries.”

“Go for it.” He pulled a five-dollar bill from his back pocket. “Keep what’s left, get yourself a treat.” Her eyes lit up.

“Really?”

“Sure. I saw your report card, and you’ve done good. You’ve earned it.” She gave him a hug, and after a moment’s hesitation, he kissed the top of her head (physical intimacy had never been his strongest suit).

“Thank you,” she said sincerely. “I gotta go upstairs first.” She was gone for about five minutes. When she reappeared, she pulled on a sweater and called out, “Bye!” as she dashed out, and he waved her off from the window. 

* * *

“Will?” He jumped, his pencil flicking across his sketchpad.

“Damn it,” he sighed, looking to his door to see who had called his name. He was confused to see that there was no one there. He looked out into the hall, but no one was there either.

“Mom?” But in his heart he knew it wasn’t her: she’d left for work over an hour ago.

“Will!” He spun around. There was still no one there. His heart rate was starting to pick up speed, until he finally realised what was going on.

“I’m going to kill you,” he said through gritted teeth. El’s voice, echoing through the Void into his head, sounded again.

“I’m sorry, my radio’s broken.”

“Couldn’t you come over like any normal person?” he said, seizing an eraser from his desk drawer and rubbing crossly at the errant line on his paper. “You know I hate talking like this.”

“You going to Lucas’ later?” she asked, ignoring him.

“Obviously. Is that all?”

“No. He suspects.”

Will tensed. “Suspects what?” he said, slightly less moodily.

“About you and Mike,” she said. “Just be careful this evening.”

“What did you say to him?” Will said, internal alarm bells sounding.

“He said he thought the two of you had been acting weird, so I said you seemed alright.”

“You couldn’t have been any more specific?” Will spun in his chair, exasperated.

“Friends…”

“Don’t lie, yeah, I know.” He leaned over his desk again. “Can you go away now? I was enjoying being by myself.”

“Fine.” Just like that, he was alone with his thoughts again.

 

He knew she was cross with him, but he couldn’t really bring himself to care. She hadn’t exactly kept their cover, she had freaked him out, and she had spoilt his drawing, he thought, squinting at the still-slightly-visible scribble that besmirched what had looked to be a rather promising picture. He sighed as he imagined her angrily pulling off the blindfold. He’d make it up to her that evening. After all, she hadn’t given the game away, and she’d been faithfully keeping their secret when she had every right to be furious with him, really. Truthfully, Will suspected that he wasn’t actually annoyed with her, not really. He was annoyed that so many of his carefully-guarded secrets seemed to be leaking through the cracks. Almost all his peers had thought he was weird already, and that was before he had a run-in which had left the school’s most infamous bully with first-degree burns on his face. Then there was the incident three days earlier, when he had absentmindedly turned on a ceiling light without getting up from the sofa, leaving his mother utterly baffled. Adding both of those to the ever-rising suspicion among his family and friends that he was gay, it was little wonder he was stressed.

On the plus side, he had taken El’s advice, and had been regularly using his powers in small doses, and could now control every electrical light in his bedroom with his eyes closed, and could light a candle safely from ten paces. He gave a flick of his head, and both the ceiling light and his desktop lamp lit up the rapidly darkening room. Wait, why was it getting dark? A quick glance at his watch told him it was only eleven-thirty. He looked up and inspected the sky. Dark clouds were gathering, blotting out the sunshine and apparently promising one hell of a rainstorm. He tore out the ruined page and started drawing faint base lines on the next sheet, hoping be able to recreate the original picture. He made good progress, but lost it when a clap of thunder startled him. Once again his pencil flew across the page leaving a deep grey score across his picture. “For God’s sake!” he shouted, hurling the sketchbook across the room in frustration. Simultaneously, the first drawing started to curl up and smoulder in the corners and burst into flames. “Oh, shit!” he gasped, grabbing the glass of water from his nightstand and emptying the contents over the paper. Breathing heavily, Will surveyed the mess. This was the first time he’d lost control since the incident with Troy, and now he was reaping the consequences. The fire had been extinguished, but smoke still curled in the air. The paper with his drawing was black and unrecognisable. Water dripped from the edge of the desk onto the faded carpet. His latest History essay was also soaked. Fortunately it had already been graded, and the red _B+_ was still just about legible in the top corner, but the content would never be read again. Never mind. “Not my best anyway,” he said drily. He fetched a towel from the kitchen and started to mop up the mess. So much for a quiet day alone reading and sketching. He was almost looking forward to the evening gathering at Lucas’ house. Almost.

* * *

Four hours alone without interruptions or disasters meant that Will was in a much better mood when the doorbell rang to indicate Mike’s arrival. He jumped up to answer it, and couldn’t help beaming when he saw his boyfriend, shrouded in a dripping raincoat. “Hi,” he said, a little breathlessly.

“Hey,” Mike smiled, pulling down the hood and leaning down to kiss him. Will responded in earnest, pulling him inside and all but slamming the door behind them. Mike shrugged the coat off, and Will pressed his body against Mike’s, backing him slowly up against the wall. “Ow,” mumbled Mike, and Will pulled away in concern.

“What’s the matter?” he asked, but immediately saw that Mike was gingerly rubbing the back of his head, which he had hit on the coat-hooks. “Oops,” he said. “You okay?”

“Fine,” he chuckled, kissing Will again. He turned his boyfriend around so that Will was standing with his back to the wall, his head three inches below the danger zone. They fell into a rhythm, their usual push-pull dynamic keeping both of them seeking constantly for the other’s touch. Mike slipped a hand under Will’s t-shirt, while Will clenched his fists in Mike’s unruly hair. This made him gasp and pull Will closer, and Will was quite happy to comply. Eventually though, their rude awakening arrived in the form of the hideous cuckoo clock in the kitchen.

“Oh, goodness, it’s four o’clock,” Will said suddenly. “We’ll be late.”

“It doesn’t matter,” said Mike, had been enjoying himself. “There’s no schedule.”

“But if we’re much later than everyone else, suspicions will be up,” Will pointed out, nibbling his thumbnail anxiously. Mike shrugged, still disappointed, but he knew Will was right.

“Okay. Are you ready?”

Will nodded, pulling on his sneakers, a hoodie and his overcoat. “Sure. Let’s go.” Will fetched his bike from the back yard, and the two boys cycled off together, putting the world to rights. From the shadows, an armoured hand dug into an ancient tree and a pair of bright red eyes peered round the withered trunk, watching them through the pouring rain.


	7. Hiding in the Dark

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hopper receives a rather unusual report, and El and Max share their concerns. Meanwhile, Mike and Will remain blissfully ignorant.

Hopper sat at his desk, looking sceptically at the elderly man across the desk from him.

“Okay, let me get this straight.” He swirled the dark coffee around his mug. “You saw an extra-terrestrial being in your backyard?”

“That’s right, Chief,” said the old man, whose name was Ross Kemper, nodding vigorously. His horn-rimmed glasses slid down his nose, so he took them off and polished them before continuing. “Well, it was either an alien or a ghost.”

“Probably a teenager.”

“It was not a teenager!” said Kemper indignantly.

“Describe it,” said Hopper, not bothering to put paper in his typewriter.

“Well, I can’t be too specific.”

“I daresay,” said Hopper out of the side of his mouth.

“It must have been six feet tall,” Kemper continued, sucking long on his pipe. “It was bright. No, more shiny than bright.”

“Anything else?”

“It gave off this most dreadful screeching,” the old man said.

“Yep, definitely a teenager,” Hopper said, rolling his eyes. “It’s nearly spring break, students start getting bored and acting out. I caught one last week setting off firecrackers in a mailbox.”

“It wasn’t a teenager, Chief!” Kemper insisted. “I’m not making this up.”

“I’m not saying you’re making it up, I’m saying you’re mistaken.”

“But – ”

“Look, Ross,” said Hopper, substituting his bored demeanour for one of irritation, “when you can provide evidence of this shiny, screechy creature, come back and tell me about it. Until then, you’re wasting my time.”

Kemper gave him a dirty look, but stood up from the chair and picked up the cane he had propped up against Hopper’s desk. “See y’around, Chief.”

“Have a good one. Close the door on the way out, would you?” The second the door was closed, Hopper pulled his typewriter towards him and twiddled a report file into it. He knew Ross Kemper had a mind for gossip, so for the sake of preventing town-wide panic, he had not revealed that this was the fourth such report he had received in the last two days.

 

Will felt someone tap him on the back; surprised, he checked his teacher was not watching and turned around. It was in looking upon the face of the girl sat behind him that he realised he didn’t actually know who she was. He was granted a mere half-second to reflect that maybe he didn’t socialise enough with his peers before she held up a small square of paper. Will squinted to read the small handwriting. _You and Wheeler – doing it?_ Will gave her his best look of utter bewilderment and turned away again. Less than ten seconds later, he felt another tap. He was getting annoyed now, but turned around once again. Another note: _You didn’t say no._ He forced himself not to throw his pen at her. _No,_ he mouthed, shaking his head firmly, before dismissing her once more.

A third tap made him twitch with irritation, but he did not heed it. Presently some form of light projectile hit him on the back of the head, but he never discovered what it was, because he refused to rise to the bait being thrown to him. His heart was pounding in his chest, and he could feel his breaths starting to rise and fall in rapid succession. Somewhere across the room, a light flickered. He forced himself to try and slow down his breathing, for he was rather trapped. He knew a panic could make his powers surface, but he could not allow himself to lose control in class. Nor could he leave immediately to calm down, for it would look suspicious to the girl behind him – and anyone else who was talking about him behind his back. The room started to spin; he focused on the words in his textbook instead. _The subjunctive mood…_ A small piece of paper floated onto his desk. _…is used to talk about desires, doubts, wishes, conjectures…_ He flipped it over to find the word ‘fag’ scrawled in capital letters, underlined. He crumpled it in his fist. _The indicative mood, however, is used to talk about facts and other statements that are believed to be true and concrete._ Will could have laughed at the irony. He looked up again, breathing almost normally. He gave a sigh of relief; apparently the worst was over without incident. He waited until his teacher turned to the blackboard again, then tossed the ball of notepaper onto the floor behind him, making sure to be in full view of whoever had thrown it. He might not be able to fend off the rumours about his sexuality forever, but he’d sure as hell try.

 

Meanwhile, El and Max had bailed out of their study hall and were quizzing each other on laws of motion, when Max paused and put her book down. “What?” said El.

“I need to talk to you about something,” said Max slowly. El glanced longingly at her textbook, and then closed it.

“Okay, what’s up?”

Max looked hesitant. “I wasn’t going to say anything, but I’m worried.”

“You’re scaring me,” El said.

“It’s about Will… and Mike,” said Max slowly.

“What about them?”

“They’re kind of… dating. And I’m worried,” said Max hastily, “because I think rumours are starting to spread.”

El looked at her knees and pressed her lips together. “I know.”

“I don’t see how, since I haven’t told anyone. Maybe someone…”

“Max, I know,” El interrupted. “I know they’re dating.”

Max blinked. “Since when?”

“Since the beginning,” El admitted, pushing her headband up an inch. “Will asked me first if I was okay with it.”

“Are you okay with it?” Max asked.

“Of course I am!” El was indignant. “But yes, I’m worried about them too.”

“They’ve gotten careless lately.” Max leaned forward as she spoke. “Well, to be fair, it could just be ‘cause I’m looking out for it now, but I have noticed, just little things.”

“Like what?”

“Like… walking closer together than the rest of us,” Max said thoughtfully, twirling her hair around her forefinger. “Will practically leaning on Mike when we hang out together. Little arm touches. Secret glances. Will turned up to school in one of Mike’s sweaters yesterday morning, for God’s sake!”

“Yes, I saw that,” El nodded.

“Should we say something?”

“I don’t know. It occurred to me.”

“But is it our place?” said Max anxiously. “I mean, I don’t even know if Will’s told Mike that I know they’re together.”

“If we don’t, they might get into even more trouble than Will did,” said El.

“Exactly,” said Max. “But if we do, they might freak out and break up, or something!” Silence fell over the two girls for a moment.

“I think we should leave it,” El said slowly. “At least for now. They might figure it out themselves.”

“Good call. Do you think we should be concerned, though?”

“About them?” El said, raising an eyebrow. “Maybe. Otherwise… definitely.”

 

That evening, Mike and Will were enjoying the luxury of an evening alone. Or, mostly alone. They were technically babysitting Holly, but she was already in bed, so they had made themselves busy. Having made themselves comfortable on Mike’s bed, Will had draped himself across his boyfriend, and Mike had responded with enthusiasm. Now, they had been locked in embrace for some time, and Will could feel the heat practically radiating off Mike’s face, indicating that he was fully aware of the fact that his t-shirt was riding up almost to his chest. Will gently pulled away and smiled at Mike, before plucking up courage and unbuttoning his flannel. He shrugged it off and peeled off his undershirt. Mike’s eyes widened – this was new. Will bit his lip anxiously as Mike surveyed him in awe, then sat back on his knees as Mike sat up to pull off his own t-shirt. “Hi,” he said, grinning awkwardly.

“Hello,” said Will, before pressing his lips against Mike’s again, pushing him back down onto the bed. Their rhythm resumed with intensified vigour, the young couple letting out soft, sporadic sighs.

Suddenly Mike practically threw Will off him. “Hey!” Will protested, as his boyfriend tossed his shirt in his face. “What the hell?”

“Mom and Dad are back!” Mike hissed, tugging his t-shirt back over his head again; Will gasped, and started rebuttoning his flannel at lightning speed. He kicked the undershirt under the bed as Mrs Wheeler knocked and opened the door. She flashed them a smile.

“Hi, boys. Everything alright while we were out?”

“Yeah, fine, mom,” said Mike. Will was impressed with how casually he was talking. “Holly went to bed at eight-thirty, and was asleep when I checked.”

“Thank you so much,” she said, leaning against the doorpost. “We couldn’t have made the party without you. Do you want a ride home, Will?”

“Will was planning to sleep over, Mom,” said Mike. “He’s got his school stuff for tomorrow, and his mom agreed.”

“That’s fine by me. Can you set him up a campbed?”

“Sure,” shrugged Mike.

“Well, good night, boys.” She crossed the room and kissed Mike’s forehead. The manner in which Mike stiffened under the contact did not escape Will’s notice. “Sleep well.”

“Night,” said Will. The door closed, and Mike sighed, crossed the room and wrapped Will in a hug.

“That was close,” he whispered.

“Yeah,” Will said, with a nervous chuckle.

“I’m sorry,” Mike murmured, burying his nose in Will’s hair.

“What for?” Will felt Mike shrug under his touch.

“I don’t know. Being so scared of my parents, I guess.”

“You don’t have to be sorry,” Will said softly. “I’m scared to tell my mom, too.” Mike gave a hum of acknowledgement. “Besides, I think your reaction would have been the same even if I wasn’t a boy,” he said reasonably, pulling away to look up at Mike.

“I guess that’s true,” he said, smiling slightly. He kissed the top of Will’s head and stepped back. “I’m going for a shower.”

Will nodded. “Shall I set up the campbed?”

Mike looked at him in surprise. “No, of course not.” He glanced over at his bed, before leaving the room with a grin.

Will was already curled up in bed reading when Mike returned, a towel around his waist, locking the bedroom door behind him. Will tried (unsuccessfully) not to watch as Mike wandered across the room and pulled some clean pyjamas from a drawer. Mike glanced over at him, and Will hastily lifted his book to block his view of Mike. He heard a soft _thwump_ as the towel hit the floor, and fixed his eyes on the words on the page. He read the same page about four times as he tried to take in the words. Unfortunately all that he could focus on was channelling all his self-control into not being a total creep and looking at his boyfriend without anything on. _What are you doing to me?_ his mind screamed at Mike. Why couldn’t he have changed in the bathroom, for God’s sake? Before Will was even aware of it, Mike was on the other side of the bed, decently covered in a t-shirt and boxer shorts. Will hoped he wasn’t blushing. He closed his book and put it on the nightstand.

“Can I ask you something?” said Mike. Will rolled over to face him, his chest aching with dread. _Oh, God, Will, you idiot! Why did you have to stare at him, you freak! Now he’s gonna be all weird and uncomfortable, and –_ “If Mom and Dad hadn’t come back when they did…” Mike said, interrupting his train of thought. Will waited for him to continue, but he didn’t. Will suddenly realised what he was asking.

“Oh,” he said, his eyes widening. “Oh, I…”

“It doesn’t matter,” said Mike hastily.

“I’m not ready for that,” said Will, more confidently than he felt. “I love being with you, but…”

“That’s okay,” said Mike. He looked relieved. “I don’t think I am either.”

“Good.

“Yes.” There was a clipped, slightly awkward silence, which was uncommon. “Well, good night, Will.”

“Night, Mike.” Will was worried that he’d made things uncomfortable, but when Mike shuffled nearer him and wrapped an arm around him, Will was able to relax.

 

Across town, Hopper sat at the kitchen table, a dim lamp lighting the room, a cold cup of coffee standing forgotten in his peripheral vision. He knew he should go to bed, but he couldn’t stop himself from going over these reports. There was some connection he was missing, some crucial link between the cases. He frowned, whispering the notes aloud and rubbing his temples. Most of the reports indicated a tall creature which seemed to reflect the light around it. Several residents had reported inexplicable spikes in the local temperature, with areas as small as flower beds recording temperatures ten degrees lower than everywhere else. The screeching that Ross Kemper had reported, however, was the one aspect upon which every report concurred.

“Hop?”

“Jesus,” he breathed, startled. He turned around to see El standing at the hall door. “What are you doing up?”

“I wanted water,” she said. “What about you?” He piled up the papers and shoved them unceremoniously into a file.

“Working. I’m going to bed now.”

“Good night,” she said. “Sleep well.”

“Yeah, you too.” He gently squeezed her shoulder as he walked past, and she rested her hand on his for a moment.

“Everything okay?” she asked, looking up at him. He nodded.

“Nothing to lose sleep over.”

“Promise?”

He hesitated. “At least, nothing I can prove.” She frowned. “Try not to worry. Remember what we say about worrying?”

“Doesn’t make tomorrow come faster,” she finished. “I know.”

“Good girl. See you in the morning.” El watched him go up the stairs, then filled a glass with water. She sipped it, and started towards her room, before pausing at the door. She turned and approached the table, glancing back at the door as she opened the folder Hopper had left there. She cocked an ear upwards, her confidence increasing as she heard a floorboard creak somewhere above her head. She scanned the documents, her dark eyebrows furrowing more and more with every sentence she read.

She scooped up the papers and took them to her room; once she was on her bed she flicked through the file until she found a photograph. It was grainy and blurred: she presumed it had been taken with shaking hands. It might be enough, though. Her heart pounding, she reached for the scarf she kept under her bed and tied it over her eyes. She clutched the picture in her hand and turned on the spot, the black water beneath her feet rippling out with her movements. “Show me what this is,” she whispered. She took a step forward and stumbled as she kicked something. She snapped her head down to look, and clapped her hands over her mouth in horror.

Lying at her feet was the body of an old man with wispy-white hair. His horn-rimmed glasses had fallen down his face, the frames twisted and one lens shattered. His cane and pipe, the latter still smoking, lay next to him. His eyes had rolled back in his head and his face was pure white. The only suggestions that he had not died of fright were the separation of his left leg from the knee down, and the deep red wound in the centre of his torso, the blood staining his clothes and trickling down into the Void’s water. El stumbled back, panic rising in her chest. She heard a vicious wail and spun around to find its source, and let out a gasp. A tall figure she could barely see towered over her. Its gleaming red irises were the main reason she could see it at all. She took a step back, but tripped and fell over the old man. Trembling, she continued to shuffle away, hoping the creature was not aware of her spying on it. Instantly the eyes were an inch from hers, and she felt a clawed hand dig painfully into her shoulder. The image faded in a cloud of smoke, and El began to scream.


	8. A Fortifying Light

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Scared and desperate, El turns to the Party to report what she saw in the Void. However, Mike has something else on his mind.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, I know this is a SERIOUSLY long time in coming, my bad. I started other projects, and then I went to France for like a month, so lots of stuff was put on hold.
> 
> Also I started writing this chapter back in May, and was paragraphs away from finishing before I realised I'd already covered half the content in the chapter...
> 
> But here it is. I'm starting university in like three weeks so God knows when the next update will be. Watch this space..!

El sat and nibbled her fingernails in the passenger seat of Hopper’s truck as it bounced across the potholed road.

“You’re sure you can’t tell me what happened?” he asked carefully.

“Will,” she said firmly. This was the only word she had been willing to say to Hopper since he had burst into her bedroom nine hours previously to find her curled up, sobbing and shaking, with blood streaming over her lips.

“Okay,” he shrugged. “If you’re sure.” They bounced onto the Wheelers’ drive and Hopper braked abruptly behind Karen’s ancient car. “How do you even know he’s here?”

El hesitated before saying, “He’s here.” She was keeping tight-lipped with him for a reason, but neither did she want to reveal that she had already alerted the Party overnight, and had therefore found out through Mike that Will was with him.

“If you say so.” Hopper knocked on the door, and a surprised Karen Wheeler greeted them, already dressed in spite of the early hour.

“Chief? Jane? It’s very early,” she said, ever polite.

“I’m very sorry, Mrs Wheeler,” Hopper said, “but we need to see Will, if that’s alright. I can drop him and Mike at school to make it up to you.”

“Well, come on in.” She stepped aside to let them in. “The boys probably aren’t awake yet. I’ll go and tell them you’re here.”

 

Karen was wrong. Mike and Will had been up a little while; however, their early-morning stupor had left them needy, and they were now shirtless and pressed up against each other in simple, reckless _want_ of one another. They exchanged long, lazy kisses, Will running his hands through Mike’s hair and twisting it around his fingers.

“What are you doing?” Mike said through a breath of laughter.

“Feels nice,” Will mumbled against his lips.

“Weirdo,” Mike murmured back, and Will nipped his lip in retaliation. So distracted were they, that Mike failed to hear footsteps in the hall. A giggle escaped Mike’s mouth; outside, Karen twitched an eyebrow at the sound, and stepped six inches to the left to avoid the floorboard that she knew always creaked. She leaned a little closer and peered through the crack in the door Will had carelessly left on his way back from the bathroom.

 

She could not see much through the two inches of space between the door and the frame. What could not escape her notice, however, was that her son and his best friend were naked from the waist up, and their bodies were very obviously intertwined. Karen smiled fondly; when had they become the wrestling kind of friends? She glanced upward as the ceiling light blinked off momentarily. She’d have to call an electrician. She looked back at Mike and Will and silently clapped a hand to her mouth to stifle the gasp that was fighting its way out of her throat. Their lips were locked together. She took a few deep breaths to compose herself, and knocked lightly on the door. She heard muffled hissing and a brief kerfuffle from inside and a hesitant, “Yes?” from her son. She swallowed hard and forced calm into her voice.

“Chief Hopper’s here with Jane,” she said. “Also I’m leaving with Holly for school in half an hour if you want a ride.”

“Uh, we’re good,” Mike called back. “Thanks, though.”

 

Karen barely heard the floorboard creak as she stepped away from the door. The temptation to storm into the room, guns blazing, was incredibly high, but she knew that was a bad idea. She had to be careful about this. She gripped the handrail to steady herself as she descended the staircase, where her early-morning visitors were still waiting anxiously. She offered them a small, almost imperceptible smile and returned to the kitchen. Surely… she must have mistaken something. Perhaps they were just rough-housing. She thought of the ladies at her book club, who all said they might as well have bought their sons green clothes for the grass stains that constantly adorned them. She had always worried that Mike had never been like that. Never really fitted in, aside from his little group of friends. He had never been into sports, to the chagrin of her husband. He had never broken his wrist falling out of a tree like little Mark Sanders next door, although for that she was grateful. The only time she had even had to mend a torn piece of clothing was when that idiotic boy Troy Harrington had pushed him into a barbed-wire fence. Mike and Will clattered down the stairs – now fully dressed – hollered goodbye, and left with Hopper and El.

In a trance, she drove Holly to school, before returning home and starting her day’s work. First she emptied the dirty clothes into the washing machine. Instinctively she paused as she pulled one of Mike’s signature sweaters from his laundry basket. She lifted it to her face to smell it, and frowned. It didn’t smell like her son. She inhaled again to identify the scent; Will had stayed over often enough for her to have washed his clothes before, and it smelled like him. Will had been wearing Mike’s sweater. How long had this been going on, right under her nose, without her noticing? She vacuumed the house from attic to basement, and dusted all of the ornaments. She hung laundry out on the clothes-line, and started ironing the previous load. Why was there always so much laundry? She washed the breakfast dishes, only realising then that Mike and Will had not eaten, and started preparing dinner for the evening – spinach lasagne, a new recipe she was trying.

Where had she gone wrong? She had always sought to do right by her children. She had brought them up the way her parents had brought her up, trying to teach them to be polite, to respect their elders, to try hard in school, and not to rock the boat. For the most part she felt she had succeeded. Nancy was away in college, studying to become a journalist, and had now been going steady with Jonathan Byers for nearly five years. Karen had always liked Jonathan, although she felt he was a little too reserved. But her daughter seemed happy, even though Karen hoped that they would start making wedding preparations before too long.

Holly was nearly top of her class in school, and had a circle of friends of which Karen approved. She was outgoing like her, and was attending a dance class. Karen had recently started teaching her to bake.

When Mike was born, Karen had been nervous. She had grown up with just a sister, she knew nothing about boys, really. “I’ll look after Nancy, you look after him,” she had half-joked with Ted. Her husband had agreed at the time, and for the first half a dozen years or so of Mike’s life, Ted had hoped that Mike would become great – a doctor, or company executive, or a politician. He had taken him to football games, and signed him up for a junior boxing class. Once he had even taken him fishing. Karen quickly saw, though, that Mike’s interest was entirely elsewhere – in reading, telling stories and playing indoor games with his friends. Ted saw this too, and gradually stopped investing in Mike, writing him off as a ‘dainty’ sort, who might turn out to be a teacher if he was lucky.

However, until that morning Karen had thought he was turning out alright. Apart from that year of sour moods and acting out, following the scandal of the Russian girl in Hawkins, he had started to flourish. His grades were generally high, and although she liked Will, Lucas and Dustin, she had been relieved when he had started to branch out in his social life. His decision to join the drama club had been a surprise to everyone. As she poured herself a glass of wine to mark the middle of the day, she thought drily that the drama club should have been a sign.

So much of this didn’t make sense, though. Mike had dated Jane, or Ella, or whatever her name was – even after three years of the girl coming over to her house, Karen had never quite worked out why she seemed to have two different names. And they had seemed to fit together so well – both sweet, and kind, and sort of quiet. If anything, Karen had been relieved when he introduced her to them as his girlfriend, as prior to that point, she’d had nothing to report when her book club friends waxed lyrical about the undying love between their children and their love interests.

Then, eighteen months later, Mike had announced that he and Ella – no, El, he called her – had decided to just be friends, and Karen had to confess that she was disappointed. “Not to worry,” her friends had soothed. “He’ll find another lovely girl in no time. We know your Michael,” they had said confidently. “Any girl would die to have him as a husband.” _And any boy, apparently_ , Karen thought bitterly through a large mouthful of wine.

 

She leaned her elbows on the table and buried her face in her hands. How could she not have noticed? As she was looking back, there was always Will. Since the first day of kindergarten, when Mike had bounded out of the classroom, beaming from ear to ear because of the friend he had made. She smiled sadly as she remembered how he had talked the whole way home about his new friend Will, who was quiet and nice and really liked colouring and stories, like him. She remembered the time, about ten years previously, when Joyce Byers had appeared on her doorstep with Mike and Will in tow, her eyes flaming with rage as she recounted how she had seen some boys push them off their bikes on the way home. When asked why Mike was so much more badly hurt than Will, the story eventually came out that Mike had stood between Will and the bullies to protect his friend. In private, Karen had wept from the thought of her son taking a beating, and from the thought that she hadn’t been there to stop it happening. Neither Mike nor Will was permitted to cycle alone again until they started middle school.

She clutched her glass tightly as she thought of the week Will went missing. How Mike had run in sobbing that night the body was found in the quarry. She remembered her initial fury at him for sneaking out. But then, tears streaming down his face, he had run to her and wrapped his arms around her, something he had not done voluntarily for about three years, and the shock placated her, and she couldn’t be angry with him.

She had watched from the sidelines as he had grown more distant over the next year, unsure how to reach him and help. So, with no help from her husband, she had scolded when he acted out, and if her offer of always being willing to listen had fallen on deaf ears, at least she was trying. What hadn’t escaped her notice, though, was that he was always in a better mood when Will was around. The two were practically joined at the hip, just as they had been since they were four. How had Karen not even suspected that something was going on?

The simple answer, she realised, was that she had simply not wanted to believe it. When Ted had made snide comments about boys into acting, she had brushed it off. At the times when Mike had cheered up instantly at the mention of Will, she had thought nothing of it, because what was there to think of? Who didn’t cheer up at the mention of a close friend? She let out a derisive laugh at how naïve she had been – even that morning, as she had watched her son and his best friend… together, her immediate assumption had been that they were wrestling! Now the notion seemed absurd to her, and she so desperately wished she could un-see what she had seen. But she could not, and now she had to act. She knocked back the last of her wine and reached for the telephone. She had some calls to make.

 

In Hopper’s pickup, El recounted what she had seen in the Void. Both of them were horrified, but Will seemed particularly shaken.

“Is it from the Upside Down?” Mike asked tentatively.

“I think so,” El nodded.

“How is that possible?” Hopper interrupted. “The Gate’s been closed for over three years now.”

“I suppose it came through before then,” Mike said. “When the Demogorgon did, or during the year after.” Will flinched, and Mike squeezed his hand, which he noticed was significantly warmer than usual. He glanced down and saw a faint yellow-orange light glowing from Will’s fingers, entwined with his own. He mouthed, _you okay?_ Will shrugged and bit his lip. Mike felt that his boyfriend’s power was building up again, and wondered if Will would be able to find an outlet for it before it was too late.

There was one thing though, unrelated to the looming threat, that was bothering Mike. His mother had been outside his door when he and Will were together on his bed. She had started speaking mere seconds after the ridiculous giggle Mike had let out. In fact, Mike wasn’t sure he could even swear that the door had been closed. He cursed himself and Will for their recklessness, and said a silent prayer to any superior power that his mother had not put two and two together.

El pulled him back as they walked into school. Will paused to wait, but Mike said, “It’s okay, I’ll catch up.” Will seemed reluctant but nodded and wandered off. “What is it?”

“Are you okay?” Her dark eyes were wide, searching him.

“Of course,” he said, his voice light with feigned laughter. “Why do you ask?”

“Mike,” she said seriously. He didn’t answer. “Did something happen?” she prompted, lowering her voice. Mike hesitated; he simultaneously found himself admiring of and irritated by El’s ability to simply see through every lie he told.

“Not yet,” he said truthfully, and she nodded once.

“Be careful,” she said gently, and Mike gave a derisive laugh as they started walking again.

“Might be a little late for that.”

“What do you mean?”

“Doesn’t matter,” he said, shaking his head. “I’ll tell you when – if – it happens.”

 

Once they were all together at lunch, it took Lucas, Dustin and Max all of five minutes to figure out that something was going on between the other three. They weren’t, Mike realised, being particularly subtle. He and Will kept exchanging worried looks, and he could see El and Will having one of their irritating silent conversations. Lucas brought it up first.

“Alright,” he sighed. “What’s going on?” Will glared once more at El, and she rolled her eyes, apparently in defeat.

“AV room,” she said. “Five minutes.”

 

“There’s a new threat,” El said, leaning over the desk and looking severely at the others. “From the Upside Down.”

“We think it came in before the Gate closed without anyone noticing,” put in Will, who was leaning back in a chair with his feet up on the desk, moodily twiddling a Rubik’s Cube and avoiding eye contact with everyone.

“How did no one notice?” Dustin asked in dismay.

“Well, I _think_ ,” said Mike sarcastically, “we were a little distracted.” Dustin scowled at him, but Max spoke before he could retort.

“What is it?”

“I’m not sure exactly,” El admitted. “But Hop’s been receiving various odd reports.” She reached into her backpacks and spread the files out over the desk. Mike pointed to one of the papers.

“Most of them agree that whatever it is, it’s six feet tall, shiny, and screeches like a demented cat,” he said, unclipping a grainy Polaroid from one file.

“And it has bright red eyes,” El added.

“That’s not much to go on,” said Max doubtfully.

“That’s nothing  go on,” said Lucas, shaking his head.

“My personal theory is that it either lives in darkness or can control it.”

“Drow,” Dustin said suddenly, having apparently been wracking his brains for a few minutes. Everyone paused at this peculiar proclamation.

“What?” Mike said, voicing everyone’s confusion.

“Drow,” Dustin repeated, looking at him like he was an idiot. When no one responded, he looked at them each in turn. “Seriously? How many campaigns have we done over the years?”

“Oh,” said Lucas, comprehension dawning. “ _Oh._ ”

“Anyone feel like explaining?” Max said, waving a hand.

“They live in the dark,” Dustin explained. “They typically have obsidian skin and red eyes, like El said. They – ”

“Hang on,” Max interrupted. “I thought we concluded that the monsters from the Upside Down weren’t actually from your game?”

“We did,” said Lucas. “The physical resemblance has to be a coincidence. The darkness thing, though? That’s a bit more interesting.”

“It is?” Max said, unimpressed. Lucas did not rise to the bait.

“El, you said you think it can control darkness. Why did you say that?” El glanced at Will and stuck her tongue in her cheek. All eyes suddenly turned to Will, who still did not look up, but El spoke first.

“Will’s powers and this… Drow… surfaced at roughly the same time.”

“You think the two things are connected?” Lucas said. El nodded.

“That would make sense,” Mike said. “When the Demogorgon came, El turned up at the same time, didn’t she?”

“That was different,” said Lucas, shaking his head. “El already existed before the Demogorgon. Will’s powers didn’t.”

“Yes, they did,” Will said suddenly. After a moment, he tossed the Rubik’s Cube aside and stood up. “When I was in the Upside Down,” he continued, his voice shaking slightly, “I used the lights to communicate with my mom. She strung Christmas lights along the wall and wrote letters above them, and I lit up the letters of what I wanted to say.”

“Holy shit,” said Dustin, his eyes wide. “You’ve had powers for like the last four years and never said?”

“I could never do it again,” shrugged Will. “At least, not until I blew the power at my house.”

“So his powers were dormant,” said Max thoughtfully. “Maybe this Trow lay dormant, too.”

“Drow,” corrected Dustin. “And that’s… actually plausible.”

“Thank you, Dustin,” Max said, smiling venomously at him.

“So how do we kill it?” Lucas asked, narrowing his eyes. Everyone’s eyes swivelled to Dustin.

“Don’t look at me,” he protested. “We’ve already established that it’s not actually a D&D monster.”

“If it’s a creature of the dark,” Max said, “surely light will kill it?”

“Worked with the Mind Flayer,” said Mike, thinking of how they’d burned the Shadow out of Will.

“But how do we trap it?” El said, glancing at Will, who was apparently deep in thought. He had sat back down and his eyes were closed.

“We’d have to find it first,” Mike said, following El’s eyes to his boyfriend. “Will? Any ideas?” He opened his eyes, and the rest of the Party took an involuntary step away from him in alarm.

“What the fuck?” Max breathed, as Lucas shuffled instinctively in front of her. Dustin’s jaw dropped, and he kept backing towards the door, while El simply stood and stared in disbelief.

“Will?” Mike said, stepping nervously towards him. “What’s going on?” He squinted and shielded his face with his hand as Will turned his head to look at him. A bright blue-white light emanated from his eyes, illuminating the room as Will spoke.

“I know how to find him.”


	9. Burning Up

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> As Will loses control again, connections are made in the worlds of the natural and the supernatural. Where is the Drow? And what will it do next?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Goodness knows how I managed to pull this out of my ass in just five days. Regular posting schedule? Never heard of her.
> 
> Enjoy!

“Will, talk to us.” Mike’s voice was urgent as he drew cautiously closer to his boyfriend. “What do you see?”

“The Lab,” Will intoned, his voice seeming to crackle as it channelled the energy coursing through him.

“Why there?” Mike’s voice grew braver as he stood alongside, slipping his hand into Will’s and interlocking their fingers tightly. Will’s hands were very hot, but Mike was determined not to let him go. “What’s there that it needs?”

“To feed,” Will said, a low hiss escaping as though from the back of his throat. Separate from Will, a low rumble started to echo around them.

“Feed on what?”

“The Void.”

“What?” El all but whispered, but no one else noticed.

“What the hell is happening to his voice?” Max said, her eyes wide. Sure enough, the timbre of his voice was growing deeper and harsher than Will’s typically gentle tone.

“I don’t know,” said Mike.

“And why the hell are you holding his hand?” Dustin demanded. Mike suddenly realised his mistake and shot away from Will. The rumbling grew louder and the ground started to tremble.

“Is now really the time?” Max said incredulously to Dustin.

“Guys, shut up!” Lucas shouted. “What the hell is that noise?” They all looked back at Will. The light from his eyes was growing brighter and bluer. Sparks fizzed around his hands, and beads of yellow light danced between his fingers. One shot out of his palm, floated to the floor and caught the carpet, setting it alight.

“Shit!” Mike gasped, and he and El acted simultaneously. He stamped out the flame that was growing near Will’s feet, while El threw out a hand, flipping the AV desk onto its side, the contents crashing to the ground.

“Get behind!” El called to the others, seizing Mike’s hand and dragging him away from Will. She pulled him to the ground behind the table, and Lucas, Max and Dustin followed suit, closing their eyes and covering their ears. Mike hazarded a peek over edge of the table. Will was positively glowing. The fluorescent overhead lights were going haywire, flickering on and off half a dozen times a second. Orange flame shot from his hands into the floor, and the light from his eyes bore scorch marks into the chipped paint of the classroom wall. Will let out a soul-wrenching yell as the deep growling noise reached a climax, and Dustin grabbed Mike by the back of his sweater and yanked him back down. A colossal _bang_ ricocheted around the room, with enough force to push the table – and them with it – a few feet towards the door. The lights went dead, plunging the windowless room into semi-darkness. A soft _thud_ was heard across the room as Will collapsed to the floor. The silence that followed was broken only by Max swearing so badly that El winced. Mike raced over to Will, as Lucas, El, Dustin and Max peered nervously over the edge of the table, surveying the damage. There were burn lines across the paintwork where Will’s eyes had scored into them. Two holes, eighteen inches in diameter, had been blasted into the walls, and light was seeping in from the hallway and classroom on either side. Areas of the carpet were gently burning up and smouldering, wisps of black smoke curling up into the air.

“Will? Will, are you alright?” Mike was repeating, having lifted him into his lap. He stroked his face and hair, willing him to wake up. El approached slowly and took one of Will’s hands in her own. She slid his sleeve up his arm an inch or two and took his pulse.

“He’s alive,” she said quietly.

“Thank god,” Mike breathed, still gently shaking Will, trying to rouse him. A moment later his eyes flickered open, all traces of light gone, and the irises back to their usual mix of green and brown.

“Mike?” he croaked, and everyone breathed a sigh of relief as Mike and El helped him to sit up. They all flinched as the door flew open with a bang, flooding the room with light.

 

Six teenagers and seven parents sat in Principal Kaminsky’s office, each looking distinctly uncomfortable. Joyce and Hopper sat behind Will and El respectively, apparently having some sort of silent argument, while Karen Wheeler, Lucas’ parents, and Dustin and Max’s mothers exchanged uneasy, forced smiles and worried glances.

“If I may be frank,” Principal Kaminsky said, apparently unsure where to begin. “I cannot begin to form a single idea of what the six of you could have been doing to cause such destructive havoc.” Silence. “Accounting for the necessary repair work, and adding it to the cost of replacing the equipment you broke,” he continued, removing his glasses and polishing them, “it is not overstating the situation to say that we are looking at several thousand dollars’ worth of damages.” A murmur of disbelief ran between the parents, and the Party looked between each other anxiously. “Given the circumstances, I have no option but to suspend all of you until spring break.” Gasps arose among those gathered. “I’m sorry,” he went on, looking anything but, “but if any one of you has a reasonable explanation of today’s events, please do speak up.” Unsurprisingly, none of them had anything to say. “As I thought,” the principal nodded. “Ms White will take you to collect your things from your lockers. Please then wait outside for your parents, and be thankful that I do not intend to charge your families for the repairs.” They nodded dumbly and stood to their feet, before trooping out in single file.

 

Once they had retrieved their things, they found that their parents had not returned from the principal’s office.

“Okay, huddle up,” Mike said. “Realistically, every single one of us is definitely about to get grounded, so we need to get smart.”

“About what?” Lucas looked blankly at him.

“We’re going to kill this thing,” El said quietly.

“But how?” said Will, who was looking exhausted and miserable.

“We’ve got to get people on our side to break us out.”

“Mike, this isn’t _The Great Escape_ ,” Max said crossly. “What’s your plan, digging tunnels between our houses with spoons?”

Mike ignored her. “Will, you have to tell your mom and brother what’s going on.” Will nodded. “El, you’ll need to convince Hopper.”

“I can do it,” she said grimly.

“I’m pretty sure I can get Nancy on board,” Mike went on. “Dustin, can you recruit Steve?”

“I’ll try,” said Dustin, “but my mom normally takes my SuperComm when I’m grounded.”

“Lucas, Max…” Mike wracked his brains. “We’ll think of something.”

“Erica can be bribed,” Lucas said thoughtfully.

“Love it,” said Mike, as Lucas glanced up at the school’s main doors.

“Shit. Hostiles incoming.”

“Operation Blue-Eye is a go,” Mike hissed. “Tonight, nine o’ clock, Castle Byers. Bring whatever you can.”

 

Joyce was silent all the way home. Will knew she should be angry, but couldn’t help feeling that she was not. Or at least, not at him. She said nothing as they entered the house, startling Jonathan, who was sat at the table, poring over a textbook.

“Mom? Will? What are you guys doing here?” When their mother still didn’t answer, Will decided to fill the silence.

“I, uh, got suspended.”

Jonathan grinned. “No, really, why are you home so early?” Will, slightly flummoxed by this response, said nothing, and Jonathan’s smile faded quickly from his face. “Oh, you’re not kidding.” Suddenly the front door closed firmly, and Will spun around to face his mother. She dumped her purse on the countertop and folded her arms over her chest.

“What happened back there?” Her voice was far less harsh than Will had anticipated, at it threw him off guard a little. He panicked momentarily and resorted to his default response.

“Nothing. I don’t know what happened.”

Joyce took a step closer and shook her head, uncrossing her arms and placing them on her hips. “Cut the bullshit.” Will looked down at his feet and heard her footsteps across the floor, as she stood in front of him and placed her hands on his shoulders. These days, he was a few inches taller than she, but as she looked him in the eyes, he suddenly felt very, very small again. “I’m not mad,” she went on. “But there is no way in hell that the AV room exploded by itself.”

“Sorry, what happened?” Jonathan interjected, slowly closing his book and standing alongside Joyce and Will.

“You have to tell me what’s going on, Will.”

“I…” Will faltered, the words catching in his throat. In spite of how easily he had told El, and then Mike, and then the others, he couldn’t seem to form what he wanted to say. His mother searched his face, her eyes earnest, but concerned. He took a step back from her and held out a hand. A small ball of blue-white light appeared in his palm.

“Holy shit,” Jonathan breathed. “How are you doing that?” Will shrugged.

“Same way El does, I suppose.” He sent the light floating around the room, and all three of them gazed at it, transfixed, until Will reabsorbed it back into his hand. “That’s what happened. I don’t know how or why, but I lost control of it today. Worse than I ever have.”

“It’s happened before?” Joyce said, unconsciously starting to gnaw at her thumbnail. Will nodded.

“A few times. The first time was the other month when all the fuses blew.”

“That was you?”

“Yeah, I think so. it was an accident, though.”

“But this,” Joyce said, gesturing to his hands. “That’s you, that’s you doing it on purpose, right?”

“I can generally control it now, yeah.”

“Right,” she said, falling silent again as she took this in.

“There’s something else,” Will said slowly. “There’s a new monster.”

“Of course there is,” she said, a dry laugh escaping her mouth. “Well, you’re not going anywhere near it.”

“I think I have to,” he said urgently. “It feeds off darkness. I can create light, I have to be the one who destroys it.”

“Will, Steve Harrington with a flashlight could kill it if that’s the case,” Jonathan said incredulously.

“No, you don’t understand.” Will was becoming agitated, and began to sway from side to side. “It has to be me, and maybe El too.” Joyce and Jonathan looked at each other, and Joyce shook her head.

“I need to call Hopper.”

“And I need Mike,” Will said hastily.

 _Too hastily,_ he thought immediately, as Joyce gave him a look.

“Why?” she asked, tilting her head slightly. _Shit._ He could think of no answer to give her, and in that moment, he could tell she knew. Will looked into her face, in many ways so similar to his own, and felt a bizarre cocktail of emotions – fear and relief, guilt and pride, all rolled into one. They were, at last, discovered, by someone other than the people they’d chosen to tell. He wasn’t sure what to say.

“I’ll give Nancy a call,” said Jonathan lightly, attempting to diffuse the tension. His mother shook her head slightly and turned towards the telephone. Well, at least he didn't have to discuss it yet. That was  _not_ a conversation he was ready to have.

 

El sat in the hallway, quietly eavesdropping on Hopper’s telephone call, her sweater, sneakers and backpack tucked neatly out of view behind the banister, waiting for him to finish. Irritatingly, she could not discern much from the half of the conversation she could hear.

“Yeah.” A pause. “Yeah, I know.” Another pause. “Mm-hm.” And again. “Yeah, you’re right.” She was on the verge of beating her head against the wall when he finally said, “Okay. I’ll be there in ten minutes.” She silently stood and started down the stairs as though she had heard nothing. “I, uh, have to go out,” he said, pulling on his coat.

“Oh, me too,” she said innocently. “Can you drive me?” She watched him consider this.

“Yeah, sure. Where do you need to be?”

“Will’s house.” His beard twitched as he realised that she knew everything.

“You’re not coming,” he said gruffly.

“Yes, I am.” She set her jaw firmly and stared him down.

“Could be dangerous,” he said.

“So could not going,” she shot back. “More dangerous, even.”

He was silent for a moment. “I guess that’s true. Come on, then.” She twitched her head, and the pile of her belongings shot through the air, down the stairs and into her arms. She slipped on the shoes, tugged her sweater over her head and slung her bag onto her back. “Ready?”

“Ready,” she echoed, smiling nervously.

 

“Mike, this discussion is over. Can we please talk about something else?”

“It’s not exactly a discussion if I’m not allowed to do any talking!” Mike fumed, shoving his plate away sulkily.

“That’s enough, Mike!” Karen said, glaring at him. It was unusual for her to be actively angry at him, but the morning’s shenanigans had left him in her bad books, and the straw of the incident at the school had broken this particular camel’s back. “Your father and I have reached our decision.”

“You went way over the line today, son,” droned Ted, poking at his casserole with disinterest. “Just be thankful the school is letting you go back at all.”

“But this is ridiculous!” cried Mike. “Grounded for three weeks? You know it wasn’t our fault the AV room blew up!”

“Just be quiet and eat your dinner,” Karen snapped. “We’ll discuss the exact terms of your punishment in the morning.”

“This is bullshit,” Mike spat.

“Alright, I’ve had about enough of this attitude,” his father said sharply. “Go up to your room, Michael.”

“Yeah, whatever,” said Mike, kicking his chair back in disgust. “Didn’t want to be down here anyways.” He stamped up the stairs and slammed his bedroom door. “And… scene,” he whispered, smiling smugly to himself. He slumped down at his desk and pulled a piece of lined paper out of the pocket of his jeans. _Step 1 – ensure privacy. Check._ He knew his AP Drama class would come in useful – when he put on that much of a scene, his parents tended to leave him alone for the night. However, there was someone whose attention he needed to attract. _Step 2 – recruitment._ He turned on the radio, cranked up the volume to maximum, and waited. Less than two minutes later, someone started hammering on his door.

“Mike, will you turn your goddamn music down? I have a report to write!” He yanked the door open to find Nancy, looking thoroughly annoyed.

“Get in,” he hissed. She narrowed her eyes, confused and suspicious. “I said, get in,” he repeated through gritted teeth, grabbing her arm and pulling her inside.

“Alright, alright! Jesus..!” She snatched her hand away from him. “What the hell is going on?” He turned the radio down a fraction, so that he could talk to her without having to yell.

“We’re in some serious shit.” He knew he had her on board. _Step 3 – rendezvous._

 

For possibly the first time in his entire life, Lucas knocked politely on his little sister’s door and waited outside. Erica opened it and blinked, so surprised was she to see him standing there.

“What do you want, nerd?”

“A favour,” he said, plunging his hands into his pockets. She let out a quiet breath of laughter.

“Forget about it. I ain’t doing nothing for you.” She made to close the door, but Lucas put out a hand to hold it open. She looked from the door, to his hand, to his face, and fixed him with a look which said, _Excuse me, what the hell do you think you’re doing?_

“It’s urgent,” he pleaded. “Like, code red. Please, Erica.” She raised an unimpressed eyebrow, but then something seemed to shift in her mind, and she leaned against the doorpost and smiled.

“What’s it worth?”

Lucas closed his eyes in despair. He had hoped it wouldn’t come to this. “I’ll… do your dishes for a month.”

“Nope. Mom and Dad would get suspicious, and make me do them anyway. Try again.”

“I’ll…” Lucas wracked his brains. “I’ll let you use my SuperComm whenever you want.”

“Nah, I do that anyway,” she said, looking at her nails, bored.

“Wait, you do?” Lucas said, peeved, before pulling himself together. “Doesn’t matter. Uh, I’ll get Max to buy you makeup?” Erica suddenly went still, before slowly looking at him, and Lucas knew he’d struck gold. Erica had recently turned thirteen, and had started taking an interest in makeup and hair styling, but their mother refused to let her indulge this particular pastime. Erica considered his offer a moment longer, before holding out a hand.

“You’ve got yourself a deal, Sinclair.” He shook her hand, baffled.

“That’s your name, too,” he pointed out. She gave him a warning look.

“Do you want me to change my mind?”

“No! Sorry. Here’s what I need you to do…”

 

The doorbell sounded, echoing through the house. Tews hissed and slunk under the couch at the sound, and Sylvia Henderson tutted as she stood to answer it.

“Dusty!” she called. “Steve’s here!” Dustin practically skidded into the room as his mother opened it, to see Steve leaning against the doorpost.

“Hey, Mrs Henderson,” he said sweetly.

“Good evening, dear,” she said, blushing slightly and batting her eyelashes at him.

“Oh, give it a rest, both of you,” Dustin said, disgusted, pushing past his mother and Steve. “Don’t be gross.”

“Have fun at bowling!” she called after them before closing the door.

“You ready to lose, Henderson?” Steve said, jogging to catch up and punching him lightly on the shoulder.

“We’re not bowling today, Steve,” Dustin said seriously. “We got a Code Red, I’ll explain on the way.”

“Shit, that’s serious.” Steve frowned. “Doesn’t have anything to do with you guys fucking shit up at the school today, does it?”

“News travels fast,” Dustin remarked. “How’d you hear?”

“Oh, I get around.”

“Hardly.”

“Eat shit,” Steve muttered, but there was no real malice in it. “Anyway, how come you’re not on lockdown?”

“Managed to convince my mom it wasn’t my fault,” Dustin grinned, his eyes crinkling in the corners. “She was happy to believe the school were exaggerating the damage, and that her precious Dusty was innocent.”

“Nice play. So where are we going?”

“364 Kennedy Boulevard,” Dustin said, rummaging through his backpack. “We’ve gotta bust Max out. Then we’ll catch up to the others.”

 

Hopper and El bounced along in the old police truck, rain beating gently down on the windshield. The wipers swept across the glass every couple of seconds, not having to work hard to keep their vision clear. The truck’s headlights shone two beams of yellow light onto the road ahead, illuminating the raindrops as they passed.

“We’re getting close,” said El, consulting the rough map that Will had drawn for her. “There, that’s the woods.”

“Yeah, I think I know where we are,” Hopper said thoughtfully, the word _Mirkwood_ running inexplicably through his head. Suddenly the headlights and wipers flicked off simultaneously. “Damn it,” mumbled Hopper, braking gently. “Wasn’t you, was it?” El shook her head anxiously. He was about to get out to check under the hood, when through the darkness, two bright red eyes opened in front of them, barely six feet from the car.

“Hop,” El gasped. “That’s it, that’s the Drow.” Hopper acted on instinct and slammed his foot down on the accelerator. The Drow’s eyes narrowed and turned a deeper shade of red, as the steering wheel lurched violently to the right, completely beyond Hopper’s control. The truck swerved off the road and bounced along the rough, uncut heathers. El glanced into the rear-view mirror and saw the eyes, as though the creature was the seat behind her. She heard a _crunch_ as the truck collided with a tree, and felt herself lurch forwards from the impact. Then everything went black.

 

“What the hell was that?” Joyce spun around, shining her flashlight where she had heard the sound. She took a few steps towards the road, with Will and Jonathan close behind her. “I can’t see a damn thing,” she muttered.

“Hold on,” Will said. Without touching them, he circled his hands over each other in opposite directions, before throwing them aloft. They could feel the energy rippling from his hands, and a powerful beam of light shone around them, illuminating the woods. “Better?”

“Uh… yeah." The light grew stronger, and their eyes fell upon the source of the noise. A tan truck was pressed up against a large beech tree, the engine still running and the lights on. The front of the truck was dented inwards, and the hood had warped upwards and out of shape. “Oh, god, no,” Joyce gasped, breaking into a run. Jonathan ran after her, and Will followed a little more slowly, concentrating on keeping them in the light. They yanked at the driver and passenger doors, but they wouldn’t budge. Joyce peered in through the driver’s window, to see the key in the ignition, despite the locked doors.. A crumpled, hand-drawn map lay abandoned on the passenger seat. A beaten-up brimmed hat rested on the dashboard. Hopper and El, however, were nowhere to be seen.

 

**END OF ACT TWO**

**Author's Note:**

> I knew I wasn't done with these boys, although this is set apart from my previous series. Anyway, hope you enjoyed it! Let me know your thoughts in the comments!
> 
> Alternatively, hit me up on Tumblr (@tea-for-one-please), I take prompts/requests!


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